Painting Nimwe
by Imreasc
Summary: Nimwe is an average girl, when her life takes an unexpected turn. She lives with a new family and when eleven she attends Hogwarts, where her education will not be what she had expected it to be. Set in - and with - the Weasley grandchildren era.
1. Goodbye

**Hello everyone! Thank you for choosing my story to read. I hope you enjoy it. I am looking for a beta, so if someone is interested, please message me. I would really appreciate reviews. **

**This story is set during the Weasley grandchildren era, and a few will have an important role, though, none of them are the protagonist.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Painting Nimwe**

**Chapter 1: Goodbye**

Thursday, the fourth day of the week, the one to last day before the weekend, all in all a normal day for most people. So it seemed for Nimwe la Fay: an eight-year old girl with thick brown hair and bright blue eyes that watched the world with interest.

She was at home downstairs, sitting on the couch wit a book in her hands. Her eyes howere were not reading the letters on the pages. No, they were set on the window that gave her a view on the street. She was evidently waiting for someone or something outside. The girl was so fixed on the street that she didn't react to the tall, red-dyed haired woman that entered the living room. Her robes were dark blue and made here dyed hair look even more flaming red.

"He will be home soon, I'm sure," Violet White said to the girl.

Nimwe did not seem convinced. "He's never late, or he would send an owl or a patronus to let us know he is running late." It was almost as if Violet was talking to a teenager, not a girl of just eight springs young.

"Why don't we play a game?" Clearly an attempt of distraction. "We could play Exploding Snap?"

Nimwe threw one last look at the street and then stood reluctantly up. She sat at the big dark wooden table across Violet. Her back was now to the window, but her ears were highly sensitive to catch the smallest hint of the front door opening and thus revealing the homecoming of her father, the man she was waiting for.

Nimwe lived with her father Conor la Faye in the city Ness Docks in the north of Great Britain. The city was a half muggle/half wizard community and Nimwe enjoyed living there. She went to the public muggle school, but she knew that she would attend Hogwart, school for Witchcraft and Wizardry at the age of eleven and become a full educated witch. Her father had also attended Hogwarts and was now working with dragons; creatures he was highly fascinated with. He had worked in Romania, until his girlfriend, Maeve, had become pregnant and they had moved back to Britain. Conor had foreseen a happy future with his wife and a bunch of healthy children; how wrong had he been. The day Nimwe was born in the hospital in Edinburgh, May 1st, Maeve had fled the scene and never returned. Conor was left alone with a beautiful daughter and a broken heart. He continued working with dragons, although now in Britain and got help from his colleague's wife Violet to take care of Nimwe.

Nimwe had a happy life: she loved her father, got along well with her muggle and wizards friends and enjoyed going to school. She didn't miss her mother, if she were missing something it was more a mother figure, but Violet played that role and did it well, however not day and night. Sometimes there was this pang of jealousy when she saw her friends with their mothers, but she didn't want Maeve back. She left them and Nimwe was happy with living alone with her father.

The clock struck seven. Conor was supposed to have come home an hour ago. Nimwe looked at Violet, who grabbed her hand reassuringly. I'll send an…" Violet was interrupted by the door bell.

"Oh, who could that be?" She stood up from her chair and walked through the doorway that separated the living room from the hallway. Nimwe heard the front door open and then Violet said: "Honey? I didn't expect to see you here." A pause. "What's wrong? Where's Conor?" Nimwe heard Simon, Violet's husband and Conor's fellow worker, say something softly. He was too far away to hear what he had just mumbled. Then suddenly Violet began to whimper and sob. Nimwe rose from her chair, but then could not decide between walking to the hall and remaining where she was. She had been having a bad feeling the whole day and at this moment it had reached its peak. Just when Nimwe thought that she should go to the hall, Violeet and Simon, a bulky tall man with a bald head walked into the room. Violet was white as chalk and her eyes were red and glistering with tears that she tried to hold in. Her husband looked solemn and walked slowly to the girl.

"Come, sit down," He pushed her gently down to the chair, grabbed the chair next to her and turned it so he was facing her directly. He looked Nimwe deeply in the eyes and gave the news every person hoped to never hear: "I'm sorry, but your father has passed away this afternoon. He got hit by the tail of a Green Horned Dragon and…" He paused for a moment, checking how the girl was doing. "the damage done was too severe for Healers to help him. They did everything they could, but he didn't make it. I'm so sorry."

Nimwe had looked directly in his eyes and not one moment did she doubt his words; his eyes showed that. The moment he stopped talking the light in her dimmed and her eyes were unfocused. Someone must have put plugs in her ears, because Simon's words were hard to hear. She heard "Charlie", "as soon as possible" and "Romania", but she did not hear the connection nor did she care. The most important thing she had heard and registered: her father, the gentle and strong Conor la Faye was killed by his passion, a dragon. Did she tell him she loved him? Yes, she thought back, last night as a greet op sleep well. He had kissed her good night and she had told him she loved him. He had returned the love, not knowing it was for the last time.

No more Dad. No family anymore: her grandparents had been killed in the Second War and Conor had been an only child.

Nimwe stood up, her motions robotically and without saying a thing or listening to Violets words of comfort she walked out of the room, up the stairs, to her room, where she lay on her bed the whole night without sleeping for a minute.

The next morning Nimwe was still laying fully dressed on her bed, when Violet knocked on her door. Without waiting the witch opened it and entered the room. She walked to the bed and sat down. Nimwe did not give a sign of recognition; the ceiling had her full attention.

"Nimwe, honey, please come down. Have some breakfast."

Nimwe shook her head and turned facing the wall, because Violet wanted eye contact with her. She felt Violet's hand shortly on her shoulder and her brown hair, before the woman left the room. A click told her that the door was closed again.

Hours crawled by and Nimwe didn't leave her room. She stayed on her bed staring at the ceiling or at a picture of her and her father taken last year during Christmas. Nimwe wanted to burn this image in her mind: her father: tall, muscled, lightly scarred with the same thick dark brown hair as his daughter and grey gently eyes. He was smiling, causing some wrinkles at the side of his eyes and his right arm was tightly draped around Nimwe's shoulders, who was smiling an even bigger smile. The Christmas tree was in the background and on the back of the couch, on the left side of Conor's head, sat Gwyndion, Conor's owl.

Nimwe could not stop looking at it, taking in all the details of the man who had raised her.

Violet had visited the bedroom a few times, but still could not persuade Nimwe to come down. Whatever she said, it did not get through to the girl. The last time she had come to Nimwe, it was around one o'clock, she had brought some sandwiches and milk with her. One hour later she was back and found the food untouched and the glass just emptied half.

She sat down on the bed again. "Nimwe, please come downstairs. We are organising the funeral, which will be on Tuesday. Your father's will has been found and Simon and I want to read it together with you."

Nimwe shook her head. "I don't want to. I will read it alone." She said softly.

Violet began to speak, but her husband, who was standing in the doorway, stopped her with a headshake. He walked forward, put a envelope in Nimwe's hand and exited the room again, taking Violet with him.

Nimwe sat right up against the headboard and opened the parchment envelope with shaking hands. Two pieces of parchment slid out of it. She unfolded them and began to read the first one with the smallest text.

_I, Conor Patrick la Faye, hereby give all my possessions and money to my daughter Nimwe Aislin la Faye, to maker her life a little easier now I'm gone. In case I've passed away before her seventeenth birthday I have arranged that Charles Fabian Weasley will take custody of Nimwe._

The will was closed with the scribbling that was Conor la Faye's autograph.

Nimwe lay the will aside and began reading the second page, which appeared to be a personal letter.

_Dear Nimwe,_

_It seems the day has come that we have to say goodbye. I love you, Nimwe. You are the best thing that happened to me and it hurts imagining you reading this, because it means that I won't be able see you grow up and that you lost me. _

_Nimwe as your father I can't resist giving some words of (hopefully) wisdom. I'm sure you'll grow into a strong and intelligent woman, however I can't resist. Be kind, little girl, and keep the ones you love close. The best way is not always the easiest way, but don't be afraid to fail. Your experiences help to become you and learn about the world. Please do your best at school and enjoy your seven years at Hogwarts. _

_Make friends, search for love, live life. Do what your heart tells you. Make sure that at the end of the day you can look yourself in the eyes. _

_From now on you'll live with your godfather; let him take care of you. However, don't forget that I will always be with you. I'm an angel know and I will still take care of you, although you won't see me anymore._

_Take care, sweety, and think occasionally of your Dad._

_With all love in the world,_

_Dad_

She had not shed a tear since she had heard the devastating news, but now her eyes were overflowing with big tears of grief. The letter broke her.

The tears made red paths on her cheek and her body could not stop shaking.

Silently Violet entered the room and took the girl in her arms; shushing and stroking her dark hair.

It seemed endless to Nimwe, but after a half hour all her tears had left her body and all she was left to do was hiccupping and gasping for air.

"Easy, honey. Breathe in and breathe out again." Violet guided her. When Nimwe was breathing normally again, occasionally hiccupping, Violet asked: "Will you come down now? You need to eat."

Nimwe nodded and followed the witch silently downstairs, the will, the letter and the photo clutching with her hand.

The days passed in a haze for Nimwe. Charlie Weasley, an average height, well build red head and her godfather, arrived on Saturday. She said hello to him, but other than that she did not pay attention to him. Charlie had looked with despair at Violet, who had taken him to the kitchen and had talked to him. They decided on leaving Nimwe be, there was enough time for him to get more acquainted with her. They had met regularly when Conor would take his daughter on holiday to Romania and the dragons.

On Sunday friends and colleagues of her father visited the house to giver their condolences. At first Nimwe sat downstairs in the living room in the red arm chair; she did not pay much attention to the visitors and was almost non-responsive. After a while she could not take the well-meant words of comfort and she fled to her bedroom. Violet and Charlie let her be and took care of the guests and good as they could.

On Tuesday morning Violet dressed Nimwe in a black dress, tied her hair with a black ribbon and took her to the funeral. It was outside at the graveyard. The tombstone that Violet, Simon and Charlie had chosen was light grey and a Chinese dragon was carved into it. _Conor Patrick la Faye _was written _Loving Dad, Great Friend, Caretaker of Dragons _followed by the data of birth and death. Some people made a speech, but Nimwe just let the words flow past her ears. Her eyes were fixed on the coffin, where her father's body was in. When the ceremony ended, the people stood up and in small groups said goodbye for the last time to Conor. Nimwe stood next to Charlie and grabbed his robes partly to hide herself, but also to hold onto something. Her legs suddenly felt very week. When the graveyard was empty again and only Nimwe, Charlie, Violet and Simon were left, they walked to the grave. Charlie held the girl's hand. His hand was rough and clearly an important tool in his work. She felt safe with her tiny hand in his big one.

Violet had been sobbing from the start of the funeral and tears were still dripping down her cheeks. She took one step forward and lay her right hand on the wood. "Goodbye, dear Conor," she mumbled. Simon came to stand next to her, put his arm around Violet's shoulders and mumbled his goodbye to. They quietly walked away.

Charlie stepped to the grave and looked down at Nimwe. She didn't look back; her eyes were fixed on the last resting place of her father. Charlie bend down and picked her up, so she did not have to stand anymore. He had seen her shaking legs.

"You want to say something to your dad, Nimwe?" His voice was soft, careful.

Nimwe nodded and took a great gulp of air. Her voice was broken, but still clear in the silence. "I will miss you, Dad. I love you. Never leave me." She blew a kiss to the coffin and then rested her head against Charlie's shoulder, who stroke her hair.

"Bye Conor. I was an honour to have known you. I will take good care of her, I promise." When Nimwe heard those last words she nestled her head deeper in to his shoulder, indicating that she knew that those words were true.

Charlie said goodbye and then walked with Nimwe still on his arm away to go home and put Nimwe in her bed. It had been an exhausting day for the girl and he did not want her on the reception.

He had been worried about her since he had arrived at her home. She would sit on the couch in the living room or on her bed in her room and stare at the photo of her and her father. She only responded when necessary and even then it would take one of the adults a few times before she heard one of them talking to hear. Since Charlie had arrived she had been forced to do something else: packing. Charlie had been living in Romania to work with dragons up till now, but now that Nimwe was left in his care, he had decided that living in Britain would be better for her. He had arranged, so he had told her, that they would move to Ottery st Catchpole in Devon. They would live in the Burrow, the house where he had grown up and where his parents were still living. He was not used to taking a care of a child, so he had asked his parents, especially his mother, to help him with that.

Nimwe had asked about his work, because obviously he had to quit his job in Romania.

"There are dragons in Britain and I have already been transferred to here, so that is no problem," Charlie had explained. Nimwe had nodded and had begun packing, not only her own things, but also the objects that were once her father's. She especially wanted the books and the bookcase that contained both her books and the books of her father. Both books for just recreation and books full of useful information about dragons and spells were stocked in it. Charlie had promised that he would set the bookcase up in her new room at the Burrow. Packing kept her busy, although every time she found something with a special memory of her father, the pain came back hard.

Charlie and Violet helped as good as they could, magicking the things to fit into the boxes perfectly. They had not attempted to talk with her again, feeling that Nimwe didn't want to. Those few days had passed in silence.


	2. A Family Tradition

**Chapter two! I hope you like my description of all the Weasleys, especially of the new generation. **

**I would like to thank SweetieCherrie and angelofdarknessburningflame for the Story Alert and SweetieCherrie for her review.**

**I always appreciate a review, even if it is a negative one, as long as it has a reason for not liking the story, it's fine.**

**Enjoy this chapter!**

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**Chapter 2: ****A Family Tradition**

The moment of moving out of the familiar house to the Burrow had come. Charlie and Nimwe would use the Floo to travel to the Burrow and the boxes with possessions had already been sent to their new home.

Charlie made the fire and threw some Floo Powder in it. "Just say: the Burrow, okay? Then you will be fine."

Nimwe nodded. Before she stepped into the fire she took one last look around. The living room where every evening she and her father had been sitting together; playing a game, reading a story or just talk about the things that had happened at school or at work. This house had been Nimwe's home for eight years and it felt strange to leave it. There were still a few things in the room, such as the couches, the armchair and the table. Charlie had promised that he would store it for her; the Burrow had enough furniture.

She took one last breath, taking in the smell that was so familiar. Then she turned around, walked determinedly into the hearth and screamed "The Burrow."

She spun away, her arms tugged at her sides. She saw several living rooms passing her view when finally the spinning slowed down and she knew it was a matter of seconds before she would arrive at her destination. When she landed, she was not entirely stable and she stumbled out of the hearth into her new home. She felt two hands on her shoulders to help her gain her balance.

"Thank you," she breathed, not looking up yet. The floor had the warmest colour of wood and the feet before her were covered in comfortable looking green carpet slippers.

"No problem. Welcome to the Burrow." The voice came from above her. Her good manners forced her to look up into the blue eyes of the man who had helped her. His hair was red with some grey through it and it was thinning. His whole face was friendly and open. He was tall and thin. Next to him stood a plump, short woman with red hair that matched her husband's. Around her waist she had tied an apron, which had a wand sticking out of the front pocket.

"Thank you, sir," and Nimwe stepped back out of his arms. She turned around when she heard some noise out of the hearth and saw Charlie stepping out of it. He, unlike her, had maintained his balance perfectly. The woman immediately reached her arms out to him and pulled him into a tight hug. When she released him, she held him at a distance and gave him a full scan. "Hello Charlie, you look healthy, but your hair is too long again." She touched the tips of it for a moment. "I could cut it for you."

"No, Mum, thanks, but I like it this way." He turned to the man. "Hi, Dad." He also hugged his father shortly. Then he turned to Nimwe, who was still standing near the fireplace. "Nimwe, these are my parents. Mum and Dad, this is Nimwe."

Charlie's mother smiled kindly and looked as though she wanted to give her a hug. Her husband though stopped her and squatted down so he was slightly lower than Nimwe. "Nice to meet you. You can call me Arthur and my wife's name is Molly. Welcome to our home and we hope you'll call it home soon."

Molly nodded. "Would you like to eat something or do you want me to show you your room first?"

Nimwe looked at her. "My room, please."

"Not a problem. Come along." Molly leaded the way to the stairs, up a few, to the room. When she opened the door, Nimwe saw that her new bedroom was small, but bright. Through the window she saw the garden and a few apple trees. Her bed, wardrobe closet, desk and the bookcase from the living room were already in the bedroom and the Weasleys had taken the liberty of adding a red soft chair in the corner near the window.

"This was our daughter Ginevra's room." Molly said with fondness in her voice. "I'll leave you alone, so you can make it yours. Don't be afraid of asking anything, okay?"

"Yes, thank you." Nimwe answered quietly, only looking shortly at the woman.

Molly smiled at her and left the room, closing the door behind her. Nimwe walked to the smallest box and opened it; in this box she had put the things she needed immediately. The first thing she took out was the photo of her and her father that she treasured. With the photo in her hand she sat down in the chair that was as comfortable as it looked, and stared out of the window.

"Well, Dad, here we are; our new house. Charlie's parents seem nice. My room is good too. Luckily I have all my things here." She looked at the picture and Conor smiled at her. "I just wish you were here. I miss you." She pressed the picture against her chest, put her feet on the chair seat, with her knees just under her chin and sat there for a long time.

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The first week at the Burrow passed by slowly. Nimwe decorated her room with a few paintings that her father had owned and the bookcase was completely filled with the usual content from Nimwe and her father. As soon as all her things were put into place in her room, Nimwe began to read. In the morning she would choose a book, eat some breakfast and go back to her room, where she settled herself in the red chair and read the rest of the day, excluding the moments of lunch and dinner.

When Nimwe was reading, she would lose herself in the story and just for the duration of reading the book, she was away from reality. She found that the pain inside her chest would weaken when she was sucked into the story, so the only thing she did was read. She began at the top of the bookcase and read her way through all the fictional stories.

After three days Charlie suggested that she could read downstairs. The Weasley family had decided to let her be, but Molly could do nothing but worry when she only saw Nimwe when it was time to eat. When they heard at dinner that she was reading, Charlie made his suggestion. He promised no one would disturb her unless absolutely necessary. Nimwe agreed, mostly to make them happy and every morning at breakfast she would bring a different book to read downstairs on the couch.

"You finish a book every day?" Molly asked on the sixth day.

"I do. I read a book within a day. When it is a thin book, I begin reading another one in the afternoon."

Arthur looked through his glasses at the girl. "You must enjoy reading. I've seen different sorts of books in your room."

"Yes, I do. I enjoy reading about different situations and just be in an other world or reality than my own." Nimwe looked down at the table. This was the most personal thing she had said all week. She mostly had answered questions about wanting something to eat and saying goodnight.

"What do you enjoy most to read about?" Charlie seized the opportunity to get to know his goddaughter better.

Nimwe thought for a moment. " I don't mind if it is a muggle or a wizard book as long as the style of writing appeals to me and it isn't a horror story. I mostly like stories that combine funny things and thrilling things. It's difficult for me to stop reading when the story captures me on the first page. I just have to know what happens and how it ends. I just can't stop reading."

"We've noticed that." Arthur smiled, clearly not mocking her. "I had to call your name ten times yesterday before you heard me."

Nimwe blushed. "Sorry, but I can't help it."

"Oh, don't say sorry, honey." Molly put some more bacon on the girl's plate. "As long as you enjoy yourself and eat regularly."

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On the second Sunday Nimwe was set to experience for the first time a Weasley tradition: a very big familylunch.

The previous day at dinner Charlie had told her about the tradition. The Weasley family was a big, but tight family, especially after the war and Molly had felt ever since the need to see everyone as much as possible. As her kids and their partners grew older, they all had work, so Molly could not see them often. She had decided that because Sunday was everyone's day off, the family would come together and have a lunch. Her preparations began early in the morning, so when Nimwe entered the kitchen at nine, Molly was busy directing the kitchen tools to make a delicious meal.

"Good morning, honey," Molly said lovingly. It had not taken Molly long before she saw Nimwe as a lost grandchild and she had released all her motherly feelings on the girl. "You can sit down, I'll make you breakfast in a minute. First I have to finish this cake."

"That's okay," Nimwe said and she sat down on her usual chair. She had brought as always a book with her and although she had to wait, she did not open it. Instead she rested her chin on her hands and watched the scene before her with great interest. It was something she had not experienced before to this extent. Conor had never been a great cook and especially not who put much effort into making a meal. Violet was a bit better, but still not as extravagant as Molly was at this moment. It was fascinating to see how Molly had everything under control in this chaos of cooking and baking.

Nimwe could not help but smile, it gave her a warm feeling, although she did not quite understand why.

Molly was chattering. "You will finally meet everyone. It will be very busy, so we always divide ourselves between the kitchen and the living room. Charlie was not frequently at the Sunday lunches, because he was living in Romania, but from now on I will have the complete family in the Burrow on Sunday." Her smile fell for a moment and her eyes flashed to the photograph that was hanging on the wall, showing all her children, as she had told Nimwe, when they were younger; Charlie was twenty at that time. Seven red heads: seven boys and a girl were smiling widely with their arms around each other. Molly's eyes were looking at the two identical sixteen-year-old boys who were grinning and making fun of their older brother with glasses, who was clearly Percy.

Nimwe had heard the short story about Fred, the half of the Weasley twins who had died in the Battle of Hogwarts. She understood that Molly was wishing that he could join the lunch with his family.

"Oh, well. Would you like some toast or eggs or both? Just name it."

"Just toast is fine. Do you want me to help you with anything?" Nimwe smiled a thank you when Molly gave her her breakfast.

"Oh, no, don't worry, dear. You can just sit in the living room and read your book." Molly turned her attention to the salad some knives were chopping.

When Nimwe had finished eating, she took her book to the living room and began to read. Time passed by without Nimwe giving any attention to it.

The clock struck eleven (unbeknownst to Nimwe). Nimwe was reading a muggle book called The Flying Dutchman; it told the story of a Dutch ghost ship and how it began haunting the Seven Seas in the 17th century. In reality, Nimwe knew, this story began after a few muggles had seen a flying ship owned by Willem van Decken, one of the greatest pirate wizards. This mean of transport became popular after the sixteenth century when trade began and blossomed to be an important income for people.

She was drawn into the muggle version of the story: she was just at the part where the ship was taken by the storm and was sinking.

_Willem van Decken he__ld on to the helm for dear life. The ship was swaying dangerously on the waves and another wave crashed down on the deck._

"_Captain," screamed his first sailor. "What do you…"_

"You are Uncle Charlie's goddaughter!" A high voice and the noise of two jumping feet brought Nimwe back to reality. She lowered her book, rather annoyed and looked at the disturber. A skinny boy with black messy hair, big brown eyes and a fair skin was eyeing her with great interest.

"Yes, I am and who are you?" She had raised one eyebrow, indicating to the boy that she was not happy with the interruption.

"I found her!" The boy ignored her and shouted to the door. Soon six other persons had joined him. All looked at Nimwe from head to toe with obvious interest. She felt very uncomfortable at the moment and her grip on her book tightened. She was still looking at the black-haired boy, who was eyeing her again. The first look had not been enough for him.

"I am not some piece in the museum, you know." Nimwe stood up and crossed her arms, her book still in her right hand. "I am Nimwe, I said and who are you?"

"We are the Weasley grandchildren," the boy announced happily. "My name is James, Potter mind you, and this are my little brother Albus and my little sister Lily." Albus had the same messy jet black hair as James, his eyes however were bright green and he wore glasses. Lily on the other hand had inherited the Weasley hair; it was thick, curly and flaming red. She smiled shyly at Nimwe, who returned the smile.

James proceeded with the introductions. "These are a few of my cousins, they do all have Weasley as their last name. Fred and Roxanne are siblings," Fred and Roxanne had a slightly darker skin and Fred had dark red hair, while his sister had black hair that was braided with beads. "and Rose and Hugo, also siblings." Rose was about the same age as Nimwe and looked like a bossy girl. It seemed to be enhanced by her red, very bushy hair and her confident brown eyes. Her brother was smaller than her, just a little taller than his cousin Lily and he also had red hair, but his eyes were deep blue and looked kinder than those of his sister.

"Nice to meet you," Rose said. "How old are you?"

"Eight, almost nine." Nimwe answered. "What about you?"

"I am nine and so is Albus." Rose pointed. "James and Fred are ten…"

"And a half!" Fred said proudly. "We will go to Hogwarts next year."

"I was talking!" Rose was clearly not happy with the intrusion. "Lily and Hugo are six and seven and Roxanne is five."

Nimwe nodded, taking in the pieces of new information. "So Arthur and Molly have seven grandchildren?"

"No!" James was so eager to answer that he almost shouted. "Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur, she's French, have three children and Uncle Percy and Aunt Audrey have two children. Uncle Charlie was always the only one with no wife or child, but now he has you!"

"And there is also Teddy," Albus added. "He is not a Weasley, but we consider him family. Dad is his godfather and because Teddy's parents are dead, he eats a lot with us. Teddy is cool." He smiled widely. "He is Metamorphmagus. He can change his hair, nose, everything!" he explained eagerly. "He will be here today too. You will meet everyone, because it is the Easter holiday. Teddy is in his fifth year and Victoire, Dominique and Molly also go to Hogwarts."

Nimwe looked slightly confused by the new names, but presumed that they were talking about their cousins.

"They should be here soon," Rose said with an all-knowing voice. "I think we should go to the kitchen."

Roxanne, Lily and Hugo were already running and skipping back through the door where they had come from. Nimwe looked doubtingly. Now that no one was talking or jumping in the living room, she could clearly hear voices coming from the kitchen. If she was honest, she preferred to stay on the couch and continue reading about the Flying Dutchman.

"I'll wait here. I'll come when Molly tells that lunch is ready." She had already opened her book and was searching for the right page, slowly bending her knees to sit down.

"No, you won't." James said, taking the book out of her hand and seizing her hand.

"You have to meet the entire Weasley family!" Fred added happily, grabbing her other hand.

"No, no, don't." Nimwe fought little against the boys, but was easily pulled to the kitchen. When entering the kitchen she did not dare to look at the faces. "Give me my book back," she whispered angrily and she tried to retrieve her book now her hands were free again.

"Everyone! Nimwe is here!" James shouted through the kitchen, successfully getting everyone's attention.

"Don't." Nimwe elbowed him, but Fred decided to add some information.

"She's eight, almost nine and she was reading in the living room. Don't you look like that,"

"She's not a piece in the museum," James finished the sentence.

"Her words." Fred ended the speech. It was clear that the two cousins were a tight pair.

Nimwe, who had gotten a hold on her book, clutched it now tightly to her chest and continued to look at the ground trying to hide her red cheeks.

"James Potter. Don't embarrass her like that," a female voice spoke.

"Same goes for you, Fred. Not everyone likes attention like the two of you." Another stern voice said. Nimwe assumed it were their mothers talking.

Nimwe heard someone walking towards her and when the person was close, she recognised the dragon skin boots. She looked up to Charlie, who was now standing next to her. He crouched down to match her height and looked at her tenderly. "Don't worry. They are just talk."

Soft protests came from the boys; however Nimwe had the idea that they would have been louder if their mothers had not been there.

"I would like you to meet my whole family. Please don't be too shocked by the red hair." The kitchen was immediately filled with laughter and Nimwe felt more comfortable. She nodded. "Good," Charlie said, rising up to stand normal again. "You have already met a bunch of my nephews and nieces, so that's good. Let's begin with the oldest here and so work our way to the youngest." The battle plan was clear, now it just had to be executed.

Nimwe finally looked up and saw about twenty faces, probably more, looking at her, a lot with red hair, as Charlie had warned.

Charlie pointed to the most contradictory couple in the room. The man was tall with long red hair in a ponytail and he had an ear ring with a fang in his right ear. The most prominent thing about him, however were the scars on his face, some deeper than others. It made him look a little scary, but his bright blue eyes and smile made him look kind. His also scarred arm lay loosely on the shoulders of a very beautiful woman, probably the most beautiful in the kitchen, who had long silvery blonde hair and light eyes.

"Nimwe, these are Bill, my two year older brother and his wife Fleur. Their children are Victoire, Dominique and Louis." The girls looked more like their mother, both having the same hair and posture as her, their younger brother had inherited the Weasley trademark. He looked not much older than James and Fred.

"Percy is two years younger than me. He is married to Audrey and their children are Molly and Lucy." Charlie now pointed to a man who was standing quite stiff next to a woman who had red hair matching his. Percy had rimmed glasses and his robes were flawless. His wife seemed to be the loose one of the couple: she had the motherly atmosphere that Molly also radiated. Their children had no chance of not being a red head. They were both dressed in identical light blue dresses without a sign of a creak or spot. The oldest however was clearly not happy with her clothes: she kept fidgeting with the hem of the dress.

"Then we have George and Angelina." The man was the living part of the Weasley twins Nimwe saw. They were both tall people, they however did not look alike. George was like the rest of his family, a tall red head with blue eyes and a fair skin. His wife had a brown skin and black hair, braided back with colourful beads. It was not hard to guess who their children were. Indeed, Charlie confirmed her theory: "You have already met their children Fred and Roxanne." Nimwe nodded as confirmation. Her eyes looked already at the next couple Charlie was pointing to.

"The youngest son of the family, Ron and his wife Hermione. Rose and Hugo are theirs." The man, red hair, blue eyes, tall and lean, grinned at her and waved shortly. His wife, quite shorter than him had the brown wavy hair that seemed to be quite hard to control. Her brown eyes had the same confident look that her daughter's also had.

"And last, absolutely not least, although she changed her last name," Charlie proceeded.

"I just got married, no big deal, Charlie." The not yet introduced woman said. Her half long curly hair was like her brothers and her parents' red and she had inherited her mother's eyes.

"See, it was no big deal for Ginny. For us as her brothers, it was a different story. Luckily for the man she married, we knew him quite well and Mum had practically adopted him already. She married Harry and took his last name." The man guilty of this grinned, not in the least sorry for his actions. His hair was jet black and messy and did not totally hide the thunderbolt shaped scar on his forehead. Through his glasses bright green eyes looked her with great interest. It was almost as if he saw more than just the outside of Nimwe. "James, Albus and Lily belong with them. Also part of that little family is Teddy; he is Harry's godson and is so unofficially a Weasley." A teenage boy with dark blue hair in a long fashion smiled at her. Nimwe turned her attention to Harry again and understood that, though she had not heard a lot about him, that he was Harry Potter, the man who had defeated the darkest wizard of all time when we was still a teenager. Ron and Hermione were clearly the friends mentioned in the books that had helped him with this task.

Nimwe smiled at everyone, taking every person in again and said softly: "Nice to meet you." She did not hold their gazes and looked down at her book that she nervously turned around and around. She wished again that she were in the living room instead of in the kitchen getting some attention.

Arthur came to the rescue by announcing that the lunch was ready and would be consummated in the kitchen and the living room. All the food was still in the kitchen, both on the table and the kitchen counter. Molly handed a plate to everyone and the Weasley family, clearly used to this process, walked to the food and each put something that they wanted to eat on their plate. After grabbing some cutlery the children walked to the living room, while the adults grabbed a chair in the kitchen.

Nimwe looked a little overwhelmed to the scene. Charlie had not left her side and when almost everyone had grabbed some food, he took her to the kitchen counter. "So, what would you like to eat? Some salad, bread or meat? Just get what you want and you can join the kids in the living room. Here in the kitchen we only talk about boring stuff, trust me." Nimwe laughed and put some meat and salad on her plate. She looked at Charlie again, who indicated that she did not have to be scared of going to the living room. With a soft push by her godfather she walked through the doorway (the door was left open) and entered the now chaotic living room. Children were all over the place: on the couch, on the floor and on the table. They were all laughing, talking and eating. It was clear they were having a good time. Nimwe stood still and looked around for a spot where she could sit. Her eye caught Teddy's and he beckoned her to come to him; there was still an empty spot on the couch next to him. "I saved you a seat." He said to her when she sat down, her plate on her lap. "I figured you would be quite overwhelmed by the Weasleys." Nimwe could only nod. She took a bite of the meat and again it surprised her that Molly could cook this well, even under time and quantity pressure.

"These lunches are always great," Teddy talked on. "I always miss them at Hogwarts. Nothing can beat Molly's cooking and everyone is fun. This is a tight family, but they are also very welcoming. They welcomed me with open arms when I was a baby." Teddy looked around at the kids and also at the doorway, through which they could see Harry and Ron talking and eating. "They have gone through a lot: the Second War, fighting against Voldemort and sadly losing Fred. They have made it through miseries, scarred though, and they cherish every moment. You'll learn to love them." He looked suddenly directly at Nimwe and she could not look away from the grey bluish eyes. "It must be hard to lose your father and suddenly live with strangers, but it will be fine, I promise. This is a great family."

Nimwe looked back down at her plate and took a bite of her salad just to have an excuse for not talking. When she swallowed her food, she looked back at the boy. "I believe it was Albus," with her head she pointed to the boy that most looked like Harry. Teddy nodded to say that she was right about the name. "He told me your parents died. May I ask how that happened?" She blushed because of her question. She would normally not dare to ask something so personal. It was just that Teddy was in the same position as she was and she felt a connection with him.

"Of course. My parents died in the Battle of Hogwarts, seventeen years ago when I was just a month old. They died to create a better future for me." His voice was mixed with sadness and pride. "I never knew them and that is hard. Harry has always been a father and a friend to me and he showed me pictures of them and told me stories. He has also grown up without his parents and he knows how comforting it is to hear and learn something about your parents.

"I'm very sorry about your father, I believe your grief is greater at this moment. I just want to let you know that you can always talk to me. You know," he said slightly embarrassed. This was clearly not a talk he had every day, "if something's bothering you and you feel that Charlie or Arthur and Molly don't understand you, you can write me."

Nimwe looked at him; she did not know what to say. She was a little stunned by this proposal, but it also meant a lot to her.

"I'm sorry, it's rather quick of me to say something like that," Teddy rattled further, "but I heard your story from Harry and already planned this offer for you."

"Thank you," Nimwe said from the bottom of her heart. She appreciated it dearly.

"Well, just don't feel obligated." Teddy's face still showed a blush. " I know it's hard to talk about your grief, but you should try, it's good for you." He smiled and took another bite of his shepherd pie. "Hmmm," he said, changing the subject. "Just as I predicted: Delicious!"

The rest of the lunch Nimwe talked a little to Teddy, but kept low profile. She did not make contact with the other children, although some seemed to want to do that, with one look and a work, Teddy stopped them from doing that.

* * *

The adult table was a different case; Charlie had sought Bill and Harry for some advice about the care of Nimwe.

"I had met her a few times, but that was mostly when Conor took her to Romania for a holiday. He moved back to Britain when his girlfriend was pregnant, so when I got the owl with the news, I had and still have no clue of how to take care of Nimwe. It's strange to completely take care of someone else's child, because her father died. She is mourning and I don't know how to raise her and I definitely don't know how to help her with her sadness."

Bill and Harry nodded understandingly. "Having a child, no matter at what age, is terrifying. Every father will agree with me," Bill confided in his brother. "About raising her: Conor already lay the basis for you, make sure you follow his ideas and throw in some of your own. Don't confuse her."

"You are thrown into the deep with a girl who has just lost her father and never knew her mother. What is she like now?" Harry asked.

Charlie sighed and ran one hand through his hair. "She is quiet. The first days here at the Burrow she just sat in her room, reading or looking at a picture of her and Conor. We managed to convince her to read downstairs. She just eats and reads: it's all she does. When Fred died it was different. We had each other as a family and George was quiet at first, but slowly we began to talk. She does not talk; mostly I hear 'Yes, please,' and 'No, thank you' out of her mouth."

"Luckily she eats," pointed Bill out, but it was clear from the frown on his forehead that it was not a good situation.

"Yes, luckily. The first few days after Conor's death she didn't. She was just a body, I heard from Violet, her babysitter. I guess I'm happy that she is reading now, first she was only staring. She has always had a love for reading, Conor told me, but now she is taking it to the extreme."

Harry looked over his shoulder through the doorway to the living room, just seeing a part of the girl. "I think you should let her be for the time being, but also make clear that you are there for her when she needs someone to talk to or just someone to hug. You know, I like her." Harry gave the conversation an unexpected spin.

"How come?" Bill asked him.

Harry shrugged. "I have a good feeling about her. She also recognised me…"

"Who doesn't?"

The wizard grimaced and continued: "but she didn't make a whole fuzz or anything about it. It was just: Oh, that Harry Potter. It's a good quality; it makes her honest and down to earth. Besides that, she was not completely defenceless against James and Fred. She will be fine, it will take some time." Harry ended wisely.

"Wow, did you just hear that? Some sensible advice," Ginny teased from Harry's left side. The three men looked slightly shocked: they had not noticed her eavesdropping. "Harry is right, though: give her some time. We can visit sometimes; Albus is her age and I believe James has taken a liking of her. Maybe one day next week? Let's first see how she survives the always chaotic Weasley lunch."

The four laughed and continued their lunch; Charlie a little more relieved and confident about his big job as godfather.


	3. Brush and Palette

**A new, quite long chapter of Painting Nimwe. I think the story title will be explained in this one. It think this is an important chapter in Nimwe's story, so I hope you enjoy it. Please review, I can use any sort of comments.**

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**Chapter 3: Brush and Palette**

Several days passed in which Nimwe finished reading all the fiction books in her bookcase. She had begun reading the books she could find in the Weasley House, although most books Arthur and Molly owned were books about household spells and muggle life. So it was that her search was not very fertile and Charlie used this opportunity to take her out of the house.

On Saturday, almost two weeks after the lunch, Nimwe, Charlie and Molly were sitting at the kitchen table having breakfast. Arthur had been owled away, there was a light emergency in his department in the Ministry.

"Charlie, is there any other place here where I can find a book to read?" Nimwe asked when she had finished her toast.

Charlie thought for a moment. "No, I have told you all the places. Why?"

"I've read all the books here that I want to read."

"Ah," Charlie said understandingly. "Would you fancy a trip to Diagon Alley? We can visit Flourish and Blotts and buy a book." There was clearly hope in his voice.

Nimwe smiled slightly and nodded. "That would be nice."

Charlie grinned; it felt like a small victory. "We will leave after breakfast." He and Molly exchanged looks; this would be a good day.

Their first stop on Diagon Alley was at the bookstore Flourish and Botts, where Nimwe after a good search found a book set in the Ancient times. They went to the animal store to buy some food for her owl Gwyndion and they ate some ice cream at the new store Ben's Fairy Ice Creams.

Charlie had already finished his lemon ice and Nimwe was about to finish her chocolate one, when he proposed to pay a visit to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Nimwe agreed and as soon as she had finished her ice, they went to the end of Diagon Ally.

They entered the colourful store and for the first time in weeks Charlie saw a child in Nimwe. Her eyes glistered and her smile was big; Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was a paradise.

Nimwe's reaction also affected Charlie and George Weasley, who was now walking towards them, could not help noticing it.

"You are shopping? I am honoured with your presence." He gave a small bow. "Have you ever been here before?" He focused on Nimwe.

"Yes, I have, not much though." She looked around again. "I didn't know you were the owner of this shop. It makes sense now, your name is Weasley." Nimwe now looked up at him with great admiration. "You must be smart, if you have invented everything."

"You should tell my Mum that. Fred and I were always inventing at Hogwarts, Mum wasn't happy with that. To tell you a well known secret: Fred and I only got a handful of O.W.L.s together; we found some subjects not important." A grin told Nimwe that George had good memories of that time.

"Not that you should think that way," Charlie added hastily, shooting a warning look at his younger brother.

George grinned. "Good of you, godfather. Well, just have a look around and you can have something small, okay lassie?" He ruffled through her hair, gave Charlie a handshake and returned to the counter, where a young witch looked quite heated, because a group of customers were all talking to her.

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was packed with flashing, rotating, bouncing and shrieking stuff. Nimwe did not know what she wanted to see the most, so she decided to begin at the place where it was the least crowded. This was where the candy and trick food was placed. Nimwe saw Canary Canons, Nosebleed Nougats and Licking Licorice (you can't stop licking). She walked further and spotted the WonderWitch section, where she cooed at the Pygmy Puffs, who in return were squeaking for her attention. She laughed and walked further around the shop feeling that she did not have enough eyes.

In the end she decided on Trivial Pursuit Terror, a game where your pawn would do terrible things to you when a question was answered wrongly. She got some reduction on the price and left the shop happily.

For the first time since her father's death she had not hidden in her room or behind a book and it did her well. She felt guilty when she realised that she was happy, but Charlie assured her by placing his hand on her head shortly; he let her know it was all okay. He could be perspective at times and he was trying to read Nimwe well.

Nimwe was grateful to be living with Charlie and his parents: they cared about her, but they also left her alone and did not force her to do anything. She had been introduced to the entire Weasley family and had been accepted as a new member of the large clan, just like Teddy had been seventeen years ago.

Talking to the seventeen-year-old boy was easy for Nimwe and they wrote to each other. Teddy understood her pain and was always willing to give some advice or listen to her stories. He had advised to talk to Charlie, which she found difficult and had not done yet, but in the last letter Teddy had written something that kept nagging in the back of her head.

_You have difficulty in expressing yourself, especially complicated and dark emotions_. He had written. _Reading is your escape from these emotions. I don't think you should stop doing that, however I do think that you should do something to help you deal with your feelings. Write a letter to yourself or Conor, stand on a hill and shout or just paint. Just do something with which you can express your emotions, because putting them away won't help you. You are a strong girl and you can take a lot, but the moment will come where you are too full and you'll just explode or fade away. Either options are not healthy or good for you._

Nimwe had read the letter several times and now, walking through Diagon Alley, she grabbed her chance.

"Charlie, do you know if there is a shop where they sell canvases, brushes and paint?"

Charlie stopped on the middle of the street and looked down at the girl next to him. "There is a small shop on Diagon Alley with those things. You want to go and have a look?"

"Yes, please."

"This way." Not showing his surprise, Charlie led the way to the small shop. Although it was small, it was hard to miss due to the many colours painted on the building. In white classy letter the name of the shop: _Flying Colours _was written. The doorknob in the shape of a palette, turned without any help and the door swung open for them.

On the left there were several shelves with tubes with paint in every colour there existed in the world. Red, blue, green: just every colour in every shade possible. On the other side of the store the brushes, canvases and palettes were put and the counter was there. A witch in sparkling red robes and with long curly dark brown hair entered the room through black curtains in the back of the store.

"Good afternoon, sir, miss. My name is Iris. Can I help you?"

Nimwe could not say a word; she was just staring at the colours. At first the sight was overwhelming, but after a minute she began to distinguish the different shades and she felt a flash of excitement.

"For newcomers it can be a bit much to take in," the witch remarked happily. It was evident she was carefree and quite impulsive. She seized Nimwe's hand and dragged her closer to the paint-shelf. "Will it be the first time you'll paint?" Iris asked.

Nimwe looked surprised at the witch. "How do you know that I…?"

"Oh, I recognise a painter when I see one. No offence," she turned to Charlie, "but you are definitely not a painter."

He held up his hands, palms towards her. "Non taken. My dragon drawings are horrible. I am not allowed to make them anymore."

"Dragons?" the witch asked, looking at Charlie from head to toe. "Interesting. Now, girl," Her attention was fully back on Nimwe.

"You may call me Nimwe, if you like."

"Nimwe? I like that name. Well Nimwe," Iris chattered. "as a newbie you should get the basic colours red, blue and yellow. Basically you can make every colour with those three, but that is something you need to practise a lot before you can make the exact colour you require. As it is your first time as a painter I recommend you to purchase those basic colours and green, purple, orange, black and, because it is my favourite, turquoise." She grabbed the tubes of said colours and thrust them into Charlie's hands. "You don't mind holding them for a moment, do you? I'm sorry, but I have to show the brushes to Nimwe." Charlie looked a bit perplexed, but decided that the witch would not listen no matter what.

Nimwe on the other hand was a little taken back by the tornado of worlds and the energy that came from Iris.

"These are the brushes. You should take a large, a medium, a small and a very small brush. You can't go wrong with that. Here, I'll take them. Do you think you want to paint on big canvases or smaller ones?"

"A normal sized one."

"Clever of you." Iris took a few medium sized square canvases of the pile and proceeded. "You will need an easel. You can't paint while sitting on a chair behind your desk. This one will grow with you. You'll never have to buy a new one, unless it is broken. Great quality, I should add. Let's see, have we forgotten something?" She looked around. "Oh, right, because it is your first time here, you'll get a mix table for free." She took something from a different shelf and at first Nimwe did not recognise it. Iris set it on the ground and made some adjustments so it would keep standing. "You see those little pits? You put your paint on it and in the middle you can mix everything. This table will not let the paint become hard, so you don't have to worry about taking a break: it's possible anytime. It is also very easy to clean." Iris stopped talking for a moment and beamed at Nimwe, who could not help smiling back; it was contagious. She liked the witch a lot.

"I can feel you'll be good." Iris said and it felt as a big compliment to Nimwe, even though she had not painted anything yet.

"Excuse me?" Charlie said, completely forgotten by the two females. He was struggling with the tubes in his arms: the one with the red paint was about to fall off the heap.

"I'm so sorry!" Iris exclaimed, hurrying to him and taking the red tube out of his hands. "How rude of me. My mother always says I should improve on my customer service skills. You can put them on the counter." She led him to the corner of the shop and stood behind it, already ticking the prizes into the antique cash register.

With a sigh Charlie dropped everything on the counter. He turned to Nimwe. "Are you sure about this?" he asked.

"Yes, I am." The spark of excitement had grown even a bit bigger. Her smile and eyes showed that and her answer combined with that was enough for Charlie.

They left the shop with a big box that Charlie was carrying. The canvases and easel stuck out at the top. Nimwe was carrying her newly purchased book and game was looking forward to the rest of the day.

Back home Nimwe thanked Charlie from the bottom of her heart and she spontaneously kissed him on the cheek. Both looked quite shocked and Nimwe fled to the stairs with the box in her hands.

"You're welcome," Charlie said softly to the now empty stairs; Nimwe had not heard him.

Molly, who was also in the kitchen, watched the scene tenderly. She smiled at her second son. "You are doing fine. I think this is a big step. Maybe you should consider taking her over to Ginny and Harry's this week. She might appreciate the presence of people of her age: always being with old people like us is not good for her."

Charlie laughed shortly, looking back at the stair. "Yeah, I think I will."

In her room Nimwe immediately unpacked the box. She put the game in her desk and the book in her bookcase.

"Look, Dad," she spoke to the picture that now had a permanent place on the window still. "I followed Teddy's advice and bought paint, canvases and brushes. I'm actually excited about this. The witch in the shop, Iris, said I'm a painter! Charlie isn't," she giggled. "His dragon drawings are apparently horrible." She laughed. "This is my easel," she unpacked the wooden object and put it in the middle of the room. It was precisely the best height for her. "This is my palette table. I can put the paint on it and mix every colour in these tubes." She put one canvas on the easel and lay her brushes on the table. "I need a cup with water and a towel." She walked out of the room again and went downstairs, straight to the kitchen, where Molly was peeling carrots for dinner.

"Molly?"

"Yes, dear." Molly stopped with her work and looked into the bright blue eyes of the girl. They were still full of excitement and it pleased the witch.

"May I have a cup or bowl with water to clean my brushes and an old towel, please?"

"Yes, of course." Molly walked to the kitchen boards and began searching.

Meanwhile Nimwe looked at the three abnormal clocks in the kitchen, for the first time with great interest. It felt as though something had changed inside her and she saw the world for the first time in a long time.

The clocks did not show the time: they showed the condition of every member of the Weasley family. The left clock and oldest one had nine arms, each with the name of an original Weasley. Charlie's and Molly's arms pointed at Home, Bill's arm at Travelling, Fred's at Above and all the others at Work.

The second clock was the smallest, with just five arms; each represented the spouse of one of the married Weasley children. Fleur seemed to be at home, Audrey and Angelina were travelling (the first now sprung to Home) and Harry and Hermione were still at work.

The last clock was the biggest and most crowded one. All the Weasley grandchildren had an arm and most of them were Home or Playing Outside. Victoire, Dominique, Molly and Teddy, although not an official Weasley he had been granted a clock arm, were at School. When Nimwe looked closer she saw that the clock did not have thirteen arms as she had expected, but fourteen.

"I am on the clock too!" she exclaimed before she could stop herself.

"Of course you are, dear. Arthur changed the clock a week after you moved in. As we have already said: you are family now." Molly walked towards her with a deep small bowl and an old ragged tea towel in her hands. "I hope this was what you were looking for?"

"Yes it is." Nimwe smiled at her. "Thank you very much. I am going to paint now."

"Good luck, dear. I will call when it is time for dinner."

Back in her room Nimwe set everything ready and looked at the white canvas. She looked and looked, then shifted her attention to the paint on the palette table and looked back at the canvas. She grabbed the biggest brush, put it in the paint and began to colour the canvas. Slowly she got into a trance. The streaks of her brush made little noise. Her movements began slow, but as time passed they became quicker almost frantic. She used just two colours and filled the white surface.

In her trance she did not only see the canvas and her room, but also memories about her father. She saw him reading a story to her, comforting her when she had had a nightmare, helping her with school assignments, playing in the backyard, going on a holiday to Romania to see dragons. In every memory he had this smile on his face that he only used with her. His kind blue eyes, the lines in his face, the big hands that had no trouble with lifting her up and cradling her to his chest; in every memory it hit her: he was gone.

Tears flowed down her cheeks and her breath was uneven and fast. Her hand did not seem effected as the rest of her body; her hand was steady and the brush movements were controlled.

After quite some time, however she did not know how long, her memories stayed away and her movements slowed down. The last tears left her eyes and she began to control her inhalation. With the brush still in her hand Nimwe wiped away the last tears on her cheeks and she gave the dark canvas a good look. Calmness washed over her and she knew what she had to paint, before even thinking about it. She changed her big brush for smallest one and dipped it into another colour of paint.

Unlike before she was fully aware of what she was doing and how the end result would look like. In the middle of the dark painting a bright object surfaced. It was small, but the eye catcher in the piece of art. With some streaks she perfected the object after an hour of painting and a feeling of contentment washed over her.

She had lost energy in the first stage of painting, but the second one on the other hand had filled her with a different energy. It was a bright and positive energy: not the energy she felt when she woke up in the morning. That energy had always led her to reading a book and hiding herself. The energy that she was now feeling was telling her that life was good and she should enjoy it. It contradicted how she was feeling; she felt lost without her father. She looked at the painting intensely and something inside her head, it sounded much like her father's voice, told her that it was all okay.

She washed her brushes properly with water and the tea towel, placed all her painting gear in the corner of the room and walked through the doorway, downstairs.

The smell of baking chicken led her to the kitchen, where Charlie and Arthur were sitting at the table and Molly standing next to the pans, directing the kitchen gear with her wand.

"Hello," Artur said, being the first one to see her. "How did the painting go?"

"Pretty wild I reckon." Charlie laughed. "You are covered in paint spots. It's even on your face." He pointed to her right cheek.

Nimwe's hands flew to her face and she felt dried paint on her cheeks.

Molly also had turned to her and looked at her with amusement. "Well, stand still for a moment, then I can clean you up." With a wave of her wand she cleaned Nimwe up and it was as if she had never touched the paint.

"Thank you," Nimwe said and she sat down on her usual chair next to Charlie. "Teddy won't be at lunch Sunday, will he?" She directed the question to her godfather.

"No, he won't. He's at Hogwarts. He won't stop by until the summer holiday begins. Why do you ask?"

"I want to show him my painting. He is the one who suggested that I should try it."

"That was nice of him. I'm afraid you'll have to wait two months before you can show it to him. May I see your painting perhaps?"

Nimwe looked at him, clearly asking herself the same question and debating about it. "Yes, you may. Now?"

"Yeah, now. I'm very curious and Mum won't be ready for at least fifteen minutes." Charlie and Nimwe both left their chairs and the kitchen; the girl was leading the way. She was nervous.

"It's just my first painting ever and half of the time I was just doing something and…"

Charlie stroke her head. "Don't worry. If I must believe the lady from the shop, you are a born painter." They stopped before the door of Nimwe's bedroom. Nimwe took the door handle in her hand and took a deep breath. Then she opened the door and let Charlie in. She did not enter the room, not daring to watch Charlie's reaction.

Charlie walked slowly into the room, his full attention on the unusual but beautiful painting before him. Nimwe had painted the canvas black and dark purple: black at the top and had let it flow into dark purple at the bottom. In the middle of the painting, with its root at the bottom, Nimwe had painted with precise streaks a young tree with a few leaves on each branch.

Charlie did not have to bee an art critic or professor to understand that this painting represented Nimwe's current state of existence. The grief of her father's death was overwhelming, but the tree showed that the healing process had begun.

He turned around to the girl in the doorway. She looked younger now that she had nervousness and fear in her eyes. He walked back to her and crouched down. "Nimwe," he said, his voice was thick of emotion. "This is beautiful. It is sad, but also hopeful and I think it's beautiful." He emphasised the last word. "You have a gift and I think you should use it to get a grip on your father's death. I'm proud of you, Nimwe. Making this painting with your heart and soul is very brave of you." He spread his arms, but gave Nimwe a chance to not accept the hug. She flung herself into his arms, causing Charlie to lose his balance and fall back on the ground. He held her tight, rocking her back and forth and just let her cry, because her tears had started to flow again.

"I miss him, Charlie, I really miss him. It hurts so much. I don't want to lose anyone anymore; it hurts to much."

"I know, honey, I know. But don't let that stop you from living. Your dad would not want you to put a halt on your life because he is gone. A small break is fine, but after that go on. After Fred died, we felt the same, but we also realised that Fred did not want us to keep crying and mourning, but to go on. Your father wants the same. Stop hiding, Nimwe, please."

Nimwe was a little taken back by his words, but felt that this was what her new energy wanted to tell her the same thing. She sniffed and nodded with her head still on his now soaked shoulder.

"Nimwe," Charlie continued, his voice was now soft and less fierce. "You can always come to me if you want to talk or hug or do anything else. I am your godfather and I am here for you. No matter what."

The Sunday was as chaotic as ever, mostly due to Fred and James who had found some fireworks in the Burrow and had decided that it would be nice to let everyone enjoy it. Not everyone agreed with them and in the end Angelina was busy scolding both her son and husband and was Percy recovering from the fright of his life when the firework had chased him in the backyard.

Nimwe saw the lunch in an other light than first now that she had ventilated some emotions in painting yesterday. She felt more at ease, especially with the Weasley grandchildren. Instead of a book she had brought her new game downstairs and soon ten children were playing Trivial Pursuit Terror in pairs. Nimwe, who had teamed up with Roxanne, already had green hair now and James and Fred were covered in a stinking liquid. They abandoned the game for a short time to eat some of Molly's home made lunch, but they were back as soon as possible. Laughter, cheers and shrieks filled the air of the garden behind the Burrow. The adults were eating in a calm pace and were amused by the sight of their children.

When the game was finished (Rose and Albus had won) Nimwe thought for a moment and then walked to the table where all the adults were seated. She stopped by Ginny who was seated between her husband and Hermione.

"Uhm, miss?" Nimwe asked insecure. She had not talked to any of the older Weasleys, so she had no idea how to address them.

"Just say Ginny. We don't miss or sir each other in this family." The woman with red hair turned in her chair to indicate that the girl could continue talking.

"Ginny, Albus mentioned that you have many books at home full of nice stories. Is that true?"

"That is certainly true." Ginny said with a smile on her face. "When the kids were little Harry and I always read them bedtime stories. Al and James read the books themselves now. Why did you ask? Is your bookcase empty?"

"Oh, no, he is full, but I have read every book in it that I could read. So I was wondering if I could come over and borrow a book to read?" The last part of the sentence was almost lost, because Nimwe began to talk slower in her insecurity.

"Of course you may! Any time. I'm home often and if I'm not, the babysitter is. Normally I work at home and when I had to go somewhere for my work, the kids would come here, but we wanted to give you some time to get used to your new home, without the overwhelming presence of my children."

Nimwe looked ashamed at the ground. "I'm sorry for that. I don't mind if they want to come over now. I think we are friends now, I don't know for sure, though." She frowned with worry.

"Don't feel sorry." Ginny waved with her wand, as though she could wave the worry away. "We wanted to make the change as easy as possible for you. Why don't you come with us to our house after the lunch? You can borrow some books and begin reading this afternoon or tomorrow."

Nimwe's face lit up. "I would like that. I'll go and ask Charlie." She skipped over to her godfather on the other end of the table. Meanwhile Harry and Ginny exchanged a smile.

"He says it's okay." Nimwe had run back in no time. "And he asks if Mr Potter…"

"Harry," the mentioned man interrupted.

"Sorry, if Harry could stay a little longer to discuss something." Nimwe smiled to the couple and run back to the children's table where James and Fred were entertaining the lot.

"I don't know what happened this week," Ginny said, watching the girl run away.

"But it has definitely worked." Harry added.

Albus was the first of the Potter family to use the Floo to get home. He threw the Floo powder in the fire, yelled "Potter House" and spun away.

"Lily, you next," Ginny said presenting the pot full of Floo Powder to her daughter. Lily stepped in to the fire and repeated everything Albus had done just moments before. James was already waiting with some powder in his hand and had soon followed his siblings. Nimwe went next. "Potter House" and also she was spinning around. She saw some households flashing by and was glad when finally the spinning stopped.

Like last time she stumbled out of the hearth and she was thankful for James and Albus who helped her regain her balance. "Sorry," she said. "Flooing is not one of my strengths."

"I can see that," James laughed. From behind Nimwe she heard Ginny walking out of the fireplace. She now looked around and saw that she had entered a bright and homey living room.

"Welcome to our lovely house, milady," James said with a mocking bow. Would you like a small tour or is just knowing the way to the books enough?"

Nimwe laughed. "Well dear Sir, if it is not a problem, I would appreciate a small tour."

"Not a problem at all. If you would follow me." James bowed again and wanted to guide Nimwe through the house. Unfortunately for him, Albus was faster than him and was taking Nimwe already upstairs.

Nimwe saw the bedrooms of Albus, James and Lily, the kitchen, the living room and the garden where gnomes had found a place to live. The tour ended at the bookcase where Nimwe took the time to select three books.

Meanwhile at the Burrow Harry had stayed behind to talk to Charlie. When they were alone in the living room he started the conversation.

"Charlie, what happened this week? Gin and I noticed that Nimwe has opened up a little."

"It happened yesterday. Teddy and Nimwe have been writing to each other and he has been giving advice to her. I can better show you what happened." Charlie beckoned Harry to come with him and led the way to Nimwe's bedroom or as Harry recognised it, Ginny's old room. Charlie opened the door without a word and stepped inside the room with Harry. When the latter saw the painting in the corner of the room, he was speechless for a moment.

"Wow. She made this?" Harry asked with some shock and amazement in his voice. "It's absolutely beautiful."

"I know," Charlie responded. "Teddy had advised Nimwe to express her feelings and painting was one of the option to help her with that. When we were in Diagon Alley we went to the paint shop and bought all the necessary things. Back home I haven't seen her the whole afternoon, because she was making this. She has a gift."

"Undeniable, yes."

"Well, there is more. The first time I saw the painting, the tree had less leaves." Charlie pointed out. It was true, although the tree was still quite barren; it had grown some more leaves.

"She could have painted a few more leaves." Harry looked at Charlie who looked back with a frown.

"I don't think so," he answered. "She had said clearly that the painting was finished." He looked closer at the painting. "Look, if you look here you can see a leaf growing. This is not just an ordinary gift."

Harry bended over and with almost his nose pressed to the canvas he witnessed what Charlie said: a leaf was coming out of a bed on one of the highest branches. "But every painting in the wizarding world moves, doesn't it?"

"It does. However, only educated painters can accomplish such a thing and there are spells needed for this."

"Strange. Do you want to ask Hermione if she has read something about it? Maybe there are known cases like Nimwe."

"No, not necessary," Charlie shook his head. "I showed you, because you understand what Nimwe is going through. This whole family has known loss, but you and Teddy know Nimwe's grief best."

Harry looked thoughtful at the painting. "Well I never knew my parents, but losing Sirius comes close to what it's like to lose a parent you have known for a long time. Let her paint. It is better than what I did and that was shouting at my two best friends. See the tree as her: it's strong and it just needs time to fully blossom."

An hour later, Harry had already left the Burrow by Apparition, Nimwe came back with three books in her hand and a content smile on her face. She dropped the books on the kitchen table and sat down on her regular chair. Charlie, Molly and Arthur were all in the kitchen and Nimwe's smile was infectious.

"You clearly succeeded in your mission," Charlie remarked.

"They had some books I had already read, but there were enough left to choose from."

"That's wonderful, dear." Molly said. "About Friday…"

"Friday?" Nimwe asked.

"Yes, Friday, the first of May…" Molly gave her some time to realise what she was talking about.

"Oh." Nimwe was silent for a moment. "My birthday." She did not react like a normal eight going on nine-year-old girl who is looking forward to her birthday. Her smile faltered.

"We can keep it small." Molly hurried to say. "Just the four of us and we could go somewhere or just stay at home. It is your day and it is your choice."

"I don't want to celebrate it," Nimwe decided, her voice was soft and the energy that she had gained from this day had vanished.

"You will turn nine. That only happens once." Arthur said. "What if we just eat some cake and give you some presents? No party, just a small celebration."

Nimwe thought for a moment. She was inclining to saying no, but Molly's hopeful face made her decide different. "Okay. Just a cake and some presents; that's it. Can it be a chocolate cake?"

"Of course, dear!" Molly exclaimed, happy with this decision. With the matter settled they talked some more about books and work, but not anything about birthdays.

"Happy Birtday to you. Happy Birthday to you…" Charlie, Arthur and Molly sang while entering Nimwe's bedroom. She was still half asleep and opened just one eye to see who had woken her up.

Nimwe's Little Owl Gwyndion hooted happily along with the birthday song.

"Good morning," Charlie said. "You made another master piece, I see?" He was referring to the art piece in the corner of the room on the easel. She had painted a ship in a stormy sea. Some waves were rising high and the sails were round from the wind, but the red-haired captain managed to keep the rocking ship under control.

"Yes," Nimwe said, her voice still thick from the sleepiness she felt. "It is the reason why I didn't come downstairs yesterday except for food."

"Completely understandable," Arthur said, taking a closer look at the painting. "This ship has so many details and everything is moving: magnificent. I even think that this captain greatly resembles Charlie."

"Thank you, Arthur." Nimwe said, not answering Arthur's last remark. She sat up and smiled at her new family. "Do we have eggs for breakfast?" It appeared that her birthday did not leave her entirely unaffected.

"Certainly we do. Get dressed and come down. I'll make you some eggs and there are some presents waiting for you downstairs." The three adults left the room again and Nimwe got out of bed. She walked to her favourite picture of her father and her.

"Morning Dad, I'm nine now. I wish you were here; it would be the best present. I know it's impossible, but I just wish it." She pressed a small kiss on the picture and walked to her wardrobe closet to select clothes for that day. She picked out some jeans, a long red t-shirt and a grey vest with short sleeves. The sun was already shining and it promised to be a bright day. Lastly she put on some black socks and walked quickly to the kitchen. The smell of eggs had already filled her nose and she was looking forward to eating them.

The scene in the kitchen was not quite as she had pictured it: On the left side of the large kitchen table was a big pile of presents. Nimwe had only expected two presents: one from Charlie and one from Molly and Arthur and she had even considered a combined present of the three of them. She abruptly stopped in the doorway.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked.

"Is that all for me?" She almost did not dare to ask.

"Of course it is! You may begin unwrapping them, if you'd like." Charlie was grinning at her shock.

"Wow." She sat down on her chair. "What's your present?" She looked at Charlie.

"The blue one on top," he pointed.

Nimwe grabbed it. It was thin and long and did not weigh much. She unwrapped it silently with care and her eyes became big as plates when she saw what it was. In her hands lay a photo album with the title _Conor la Faye. Loving Dad. Great Friend. Caretaker of Dragons. _She opened it and saw a baby in the arms of a woman who had the same eyes as she had and she recognised her from pictures. _Conor, 2 months old _was written underneath it. She went through the pages and saw her father grow up from a baby to a skinny teenager to the muscled man she knew. At the back of the book were some empty pages. "To glue in some pictures of him that you have." Charlie explained.

Nimwe flew in his arms and hugged him fiercely. "Thank you," she said and it came from the bottom of her heart.

"You are very welcome." He hugged her back and felt warm inside.

She retreated, smiled at her godfather and unpacked the rest of the presents. Molly and Arthur had given a new book to read about pirates, the Potter family had sent drawing paper bloc, a few different grey pencils and a drawing Lily had made. From George's family she got a box full of prank sweets, Percy's family had sent a book with information about Muggle stories and the truth as wizards knew it, Ron and Hermione had also given a book and Bill and his family had sent a box with a flower that turned into a fish when put in water. That specie of fish, Charlie explained, swam near Shell Cottage, Bill and Fleur's home, and could in this way survive without water. "They do need food to survive," he ended.

"Cool," Nimwe said, looking at the blue and yellow fish with long fins that she had put in a glass bowl. A proper fish bowl she would buy later.

There was one package left and Nimwe shove it towards her. She immediately knew by the size it was a book. The card taped on the top read: _Happy Birthday, dear Nimwe! I heard you followed my advice and painted a beautiful painting. I hope I can see it soon. Love Teddy. _

She opened the present and indeed a book appeared. _Painters and their paintings: more than just paint. _When Nimwe flipped through it and saw several paintings accompanied with information given by the painters. Everything about meaning, paint techniques and mixing colours was mentioned. Nimwe was thrilled.

The moment she would see everyone this Sunday, she would make sure that she thanked them with all her might.


	4. The Highly Anticipated Letter

**Chapter four here for you. This one is a short one, just because if was the best moment to begin and end this chapter. Don't worry: I am writing chapter seven at the moment!**

**Great thanks to everyone who has reviewed and/or added me to their story alert/favourite.**

**Please review; I would appreciate it very much.**

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**Chapter 4: The Highly Anticipated Letter**

From her birthday on, Nimwe found her place in the Weasley family and began to enjoy life again. It was a slow process, but it was evident that she was crawling out of the deep dale. Her love for reading did not fade away, although she did not read seven books per week anymore. She also began to explore her gift of painting: she discovered that when painting her emotions took over and as a result her paintings were filled with soul. She painted about everything: a pirate, a cat or her latest subject: the Weasley family. She had begun to paint it when she realised that this summer was the end of permanently living at the Burrow. She had turned eleven this May and that meant that she would go to Hogwarts in September. She was looking forward to it, but also felt some sadness when thinking of it.

One day in the summer she had put a large canvas on her easel and had put her feelings for her family in the painting.

She had painted the Burrow with its back garden, crowded with every member of the Weasley family. Molly and Arthur were painted in the heart of the Burrow: the kitchen, watching the scene in the garden, Molly with her favourite apron on. Ginny, Harry, Ron and Hermione, good friends as they have been for ages, were found on the grass talking, laughing and watching their children, who were having fun degnoming the garden together with their cousins Fred, Roxanne, Louis and Lucy. They were swinging the gnomes in the air and throwing them away as far as possible. Through a window upstairs Molly and Dominique were seen. They were hanging outside the window, shouting encouragements to Victoire and Teddy, who were flying on brooms, racing each other. Bill, Fleur and Charlie were sitting at the table surrounded by chickens, with food that was made by Molly and Percy and Audrey were looking at and watering some flowers. All in all it was a painting full chaos and love: it presented the Weasley family perfectly.

When Charlie had seen the painting, he had pointed out that she had forgotten herself. She wanted to explain that this painting was from her point of view, but he had not let her talk and had insisted she would include herself in the painting. As a compromise she had painted herself on a chair near the tree at the corner of the painting with an easel in front of her and the palette table next to her; her painted self was painting the scene.

As all of her other paintings, this one was moving and soon the painted James had grabbed a chair and sat down next to her, commenting and pointing at the canvas.

Nimwe had given the painting as a present to Arthur and Molly as a "thank you for everything." Molly had burst into tears and had hugged her so hard it became difficult to breath. Also Arthur had some tears in his eyes and his hug, though more gentle, was as loving as Molly's. The painting now had a special place in the kitchen, the heart of the Burrow.

Nimwe woke up as she did every morning; early and bright. She took a shower, threw on some Muggle clothes, which she found more comfortable to wear and walked downstairs. Molley was baking eggs and gave her a happy "good morning."

"Good morning," Nimwe said while she sat down. She looked briefly out of the window and saw that today was another sunny day.

"Charlie had to go to work early this morning. He hopes he will be home on time though." Molly said, plating some baked eggs for Nimwe. "Do you have any plans for today?"

"I was thinking of going over to Rose's today." Nimwe paused in her movement to spoon some egg into her mouth. "She wanted to play Trivial Pursuit Terror." She took the bite.

Rose had become a good friend of hers, although they were not quite alike, and in September they would attend Hogwarts for the first time with Albus. James and Fred had already survived their first year, though their mothers were not quite happy with the way they had, and Lucy and Louis were going to begin their third year. Two years ago Teddy had successfully finished his seventh year and was now Harry's protégé in the Auror department. For Victoire and Dominique and Molly this year was exciting: they had their N.E.W.T. and O.W.L. exams coming up.

"Honey, you know you can invite Rose anytime over. I was thinking of making some chocolate cake today." She was clearly convincing Nimwe to stay home and she wanted to see her granddaughter again.

"Oh, Grammy, I would love some of that cake," said a voice nobody expected to hear. A grinning jet-black haired, skinny boy stood in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen. He obviously had just come out of the fireplace, travelling by Floo to come to the Burrow. "Good morning, ladies" James Potter said. In the two years that Nimwe knew him, he had not changed much: only his height had gone up. He continued to talk: "You look fairly calm. You didn't get the owl yet?" He looked at Nimwe, who looked back with confusion.

"What owl?"

"The Hogwarts owl! Albus is jumping up and down at home as we speak."

Molly gave a squeak of excitement. "But that is fantastic! We should look out for…" She could not finish her sentence, because a brown owl was ticking with its beak against the kitchen window. Molly hurried to open it and the owl flew in, dropped the letter on the table and was out again. Molly and James looked expectantly at Nimwe, who took the envelope and looked at the address:

_Nimwe la Faye_

_Third bedroom_

_The Burrow_

_Ottery St. Catchpole_

She turned it around and saw the crest, which consisted of a lion, a snake, an eagle and a badger surrounding the letter H. This was it: the moment she had been waiting for all this spring and summer. She slowly opened the envelope, not listening to the encouragements of James to open it faster, and took the two pieces of parchment out of it.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: __MINERVA McGONAGALL_

_(Order of Merlin, __Second Class, Dumbledore award for Transfiguration)_

_Dear __Ms la Faye,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Hector Burnewood_

_Deputy Headmaster_

The second parchment was as mentioned in the letter, the list of books and equipment that she needed for Hogwarts.

A wide smile crept across her face and she finally looked up and saw Molly beaming and James grinning at her. "I'm going to Hogwarts!" She leaped up and was pulled into a hug with Molly, who was already making plans. "We have to celebrate this and Charlie and Arthur need to know this. We have to invite the whole family over. Rose must have also received a letter. Oh, this is wonderful!"

She hurried away to do the things she had just said.

"Congratulations," James said, still leaning against the kitchen table. "I must say, I might have doubted if you were magical at all."

"Indeed," Nimwe said, not at all hurt by his remark. "My paintings aren't enough proof of my magic."

"Exactly," James looked at the painting of all the Weasleys that was hung in the kitchen. "There is nothing magical about making paintings move."

"Prat," Nimwe laughed and softly hit his arm.

"So, are you coming with me to see Albus?"

Nimwe thought for a moment. "I have agreed with Rose to play Trivial Pursuit Terror. It has a new update now. It's more terrifying."

"Oh, cool! Let's play it here, everyone will come over anyway and I want Grammy's cake. We'll first go to my house and then to uncle Ron and aunt Hermione's house. Tell Gran where we are going and if Rose is here before we do, she will tell her that we are gathering here." He had it all figured out for her, the troublemaking at school Nimwe had heard about had to be due to his quick thinking.

"Okay, good plan." Nimwe hurried off to tell Molly about her plan, brush her teeth and put on a pair of shoes. When she came back, she said: "Molly said it was fine and we should tell Ginny and Hermione that the celebration dinner starts at half past five. Molly is going to owl everyone else."

"Great! Let's go!" James said, already halfway to the fireplace.

Nimwe was welcomed with hugs and cries of "Congratulations" when she stepped out of the fireplace at the Potter House. Apparently James had already announced the news of her acceptance to Hogwarts. Lastly she congratulated Albus, who had such a big smile on his face that no Vanishing Spell could wipe away.

The message about dinner was passed to Ginny and she promised that the whole family would be there on time. With Albus and Lily, Nimwe and James agreed to meet up at the Burrow, the last two would visit Ron and Hermione first.

"See you later!" James shouted, before he Flooed away.

Nimwe said her goodbye in a calmer manner and the next moment arrived at Waterhill, the house where Ron's family were living. She saw James swinging Rose's arm up and down and the girl was trying to stop him, not quite successfully. He let loose when Nimwe stepped out of the fireplace, so Rose could hurry to her.

"We are going to Hogwarts!" She said happily and the girls hugged briefly. "I can't wait to buy my wand and get all the schoolbooks," Rose continued. "I do hope I can read them all before school begins. I hope Mum and Dad will take me to Diagon Alley as soon as possible. When are you going?"

Nimwe shrugged. "I don't know, Charlie had to go to the dragons, so I haven't spoken to him yet."

"Oh, too bad. Mum is at home, so she knows and Dad is working at Uncle George's shop, just for today, so we owled him immediately."

The dark brunette nodded understandingly. "Where is Hermione? I have to give a message."

"Over here." Hermione appeared in the doorway with a tray in her hands filled with glasses of soda and plates with some cake on it. "I already thought that I heard some noise." She walked to the table in the middle of the room and put down the tray. "You also received your letter, Nimwe?"

"Yes, I did. Molly is baking a chocolate cake for me. She invited you all over for a celebration dinner tonight at half past five."

"That would be nice. I don't have to cook tonight. I assume Albus is over the moon?" She asked James who was looking with hungry eyes at the cake.

"Oh, yep," he said, tearing his eyes away from the food. "Couldn't stop jumping."

Hugo walked into the living room.

"Hey, Hugo, would you like to come over to the Burrow to play a game? Albus and Lily are coming too and Rose had already made plans with Nimwe."

Hugo nodded feverishly. "But first the cake."

Hermione smiled. "They will be at the Burrow in thirty minutes. Don't forget to tell Molly that we are coming for dinner, okay?"

"Understood, aunt." This time James let Nimwe first Floo away and at the Burrow they ate some cake that Molly still had from the one she had baked yesterday. The kitchen was filled with the rich smell of chocolate cake and Nimwe could not do anything, but feel happy.

Finally it was Monday; the day Nimwe had been looking forward to. This was the day she would buy a wand, at last. Charlie and Nimwe rose early and after a heavenly breakfast made by Molly, they left the Burrow by Floo to reappear in the Leaky Cauldron owned by Hannah Longbottom. The landlady greeted the pair happily. They knew her, as she was the wife of Neville Longbottom: a good friend of Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione and he was a war hero. Also Hannah had fought in the Battle of Hogwarts.

Charlie and Nimwe walked past the bar to the small court behind the pub. Charlie tapped with his wand on a brick in the wall and a port to Diagon Alley appeared. It was still quiet in the shopping street, but within an hour, it would be very crowded.

"First your school robes." Charlie said and they walked to Madame Malkin's shop. After measuring her, the witch found slightly larger fitting robes, because as she explained: "You are growing."

The next shop was at Potage's Cauldron Shop, where they bought a size two pewter cauldron. They soon filled the cauldron with the schoolbooks bought at Flourish and Botts and they found some room to buy a telescope, brass scales and a set of glass phials. There was now still one thing left to buy.

Charlie turned to Nimwe when they stepped out of the last shop. "Would you fancy an ice cream first or would you rather buy your wand first?"

"My wand." Nimwe was beaming just of the thought of owning a wand and Charlie could not procrastinate it any longer. They went straight to Ollivander's and when they entered the shop, a bell ringed.

Ollivander was a pale-eyed, white haired man with a great knowledge of wandlore. He was busy with a light brown haired girl who looked the same age as Nimwe. She was waving wands, but Ollivander snatched them all quickly back when he did not get the reaction he wanted. Finally the wand the girl was holding, emitted some sparks and Ollivander made no movement to take it back. It was obvious that witch and wand had found each other.

With a relieved smile the girl and her parents left the shop. Ollivander now looked with great interest at his new visitors.

"Ah, ahorn, 12 inches with dragon's blood, not?" His rhetorical question was directed at Charlie.

"As always, you are right, Ollivander. But today we're here for Nimwe."

"Nimwe," Ollivander repeated. "You are not Charlie's daughter, am I correct?"

"No, he is my godfather. Conor la Faye was my father."

"Conor la Faye, 11 and a half inches, holly, the heart consisted of a hair of a unicorn. Very suitable for Charms. I'll take the measurements first, after that we let the wand choose the witch."

The measuring tape did his work on his own, while Ollivander was already selecting some wands. When done, if fell down as a dead weight and the man came forward with some small boxes that contained wands. He gave her one, took it immediately back and gave her another one. This happened about a dozen times and Ollivander became more excited by the minute. Nimwe on the other hand began to feel more out of place and when Ollivander went to retrieve more wands, she looked at Charlie. "Maybe he can't find one that fits." Fear was in her voice and her eyes were big.

"Don't worry. Ollivander can match every witch or wizard with a wand."

The process went on and on and still Nimwe did not get the warm feeling that Charlie had described, actually it was quite the opposite: Nimwe did not feel comfortable at all with a wand. When the new stack was gone, Ollivander did not get new boxes, but looked down at the girl.

"Miss la Faye, you are a curious case, I must say. Have you felt nothing the whole time or did you feel a small tinkle?"

Nimwe shook her head. "I feel quite the opposite to be honest."

Ollivander's eyes widened with surprise and interest and drank in her image once again. "The opposite, you said? That is unusual." He turned around, walked to the counter and searched through some papers. "I will make you a wand. I think yours needs something different and I don't have it in my shop. I'm afraid that I have to tell you that you can't receive it before the first of September. But you won't have to go to school without a wand for long. There will be no need to worry."

Charlie and Nimwe looked perplexed at him. "No wand," Charlie said, still not believing it. "Has this ever happened before?"

"On my watch, about six times and every time it ended well, so do not worry." His answer was directed at Nimwe.

Charlie took Nimwe's hand and pulled her with him to the door. "Thank you for your time anyway, Ollivander. We will await your owl with the wand." The bell tinkled again when they left. They silently walked through Diagon Alley, not fancying an ice cream anymore. The day had started so well, but this news made the good things be forgotten fast.

Nimwe sniffed and felt the tears burn behind her eyes, but did her best to hold them in. A wand was not worth crying for.

"Don't worry." Charlie had noticed her state of being. " Ollivander himself said that he would make you a wand and he is the best wandmaker there is!"

Nimwe nodded, but did not care at the moment. It all came down to this doubt if she was meant for Hogwarts and magic or not. She had never doubted that: her paintings seemed to be proof enough. However now that she did not have a wand after holding an endless amount of wands in her hand, it seemed that she was not meant for performing magic. She wondered if there was a name for a person who was neither a squib nor a witch.

Her mood kept being low and back home she retreated herself immediately to her room and took a Muggle book out of her bookcase, just to escape reality and magic for a few hours.

What she did not know was that at that moment Ollivander was writing a letter to Hogwarts to inform the Headmistress about the abnormal new student named Nimwe la Faye.


	5. September 1

**Chapter five here for you. The real story is starting now. I already want to tell you that my story won't only tell Nimwe's first year at Hogwarts: it will be about all her seven years and maybe a little about what happens after. But we have a long way before we get their, so first enjoy this chapter!**

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**Chapter 5: September 1**

The summer passed by fast and before Nimwe knew it, it was time to pack her trunk with all the equipment, the books and every thing else she needed at Hogwarts. Gwyndion was put in her cage and Nimwe also decided to take her painting equipment and a few small sized canvases.

She was not the only one packing at the Burrow: also Charlie was gathering everything he owned and put it in his expandable trunk. He had decided, now Nimwe would live at Hogwarts most of the year, this meant that he could return to his passion. He had arranged to take his old job back in Romania. It was undeniably the best place for him to study and work with dragons.

Charlie had promised that he would return to the Burrow every holiday and in the summer holiday he and Nimwe would visit Romania for a few weeks, just like Conor and she had done.

A few days later it was September first and Nimwe was standing in her room for the last time; checking if she had not forgotten anything. After assuring herself that she had everything and if not, Molly would send it to her, she walked downstairs to the kitchen where everyone was.

Charlie and Nimwe would Floo to the Leaky Cauldron in London and from there on walk to platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station. Nimwe now had to say goodbye to Arthur and Molly. Arthur hugged her gently and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He wished her luck and fun. Molly on the other hand was nearly sobbing and gave her famous almost bone crushing hug. Nimwe kissed her on the cheek and promised to write her regularly. Finally Molly let go and the pair could begin their journey. Fortunately it was not a far walk to King's Cross, although Gwyndion attracted some shocked expressions. When they had arrived at King's Cross, Charlie and Nimwe leaned against the wall between platforms nine and ten and so glided through the bricks. The next moment they stepped on platform nine and three-quarters, where the Hogwarts Express stood ready to leave.

"Come," Charlie said pushing the trolley with the trunk and the owl cage. "in the back there is more room and we might see Albus and Rose."

The thick steam coming from the Hogwarts Express covered the platform in a thick mist, so it was difficult to see far ahead.

Suddenly someone bumped into Nimwe and she stood abruptly still. "Ouch," she said and she looked who was the culprit. With shocked eyes and a mouth that was opening and closing like a fish on dry land, stood James looking at something behind Nimwe. He did not seem to have noticed his friend.

"James, what's…?" Charlie began to ask, but when he followed James' eye line, he laughed. "James, get over it!"

"What? What's happening?" Nimwe asked confused and she shook James to get him out of his state of shock.

"Te-Teddy," he stuttered, pointing right ahead of him. "_snogging _Victoire!"

"Oh, really?" Nimwe was delighted by the news. "How wonderful! They have always been good friends."

James had not heard her. "I have to tell Mum and Dad this," and he was off again.

"Sometimes you think he has the wrong father." Charlie commented. "Come, Nimwe, I have to get you in the train before it leaves."

They found an empty entrance of a train and heaved the trunk and the owl cage into the train. Inside the train, quickly looking for a compartment to put her stuff there, she saw the familiar red hair of Fred Weasley coming out of a compartment. He beckoned her to come. "Put your stuff in here. I'm going outside to say goodbye to Dad and Mum and Roxanne." With a grin he disappeared again.

Nimwe placed her things in the carriage and stepped out of the train again to say goodbye to Charlie. She felt a small lump in her throat and saw that also Charlie had some difficulties with parting. She was grateful for the comfort and love he had given her. She hugged him tightly around the waist. He hugged her back and said: "Have fun at Hogwarts. Study hard and make good friends. Don't forget to write to me; I want to know everything, especially about your house and your new friends."

Nimwe nodded. The train rang a bell to tell the students to hurry up. "I have to go. Bye, Charlie. I'll miss you. We'll see each other with Christmas, right?"

"Definitely. Bye and I'll miss you too." He pushed her lightly to the train to get her on time in it. Inside the train she turned around, gave Charlie a light kiss on the cheek, which startled him a little, but lightened his heart.

Nimwe said goodbye and then walked to the carriage where her belongings were.

Fred and James were already there and were waving at their parents through the opened window. Nimwe squeezed herself between the wall and James and waved fervently to Charlie. She noticed that a lot of people were looking at a group near the end of the train. When she looked better she saw that it were Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione standing there.

"Wow," she said. " I didn't know Harry always got so much attention."

"Oh," said James. "but they are not looking at Dad."

"No," said Fred. "They are looking at Uncle Ron and Aunt Ginny. Redheads are scarce these days."

Nimwe just had to laugh. The train was leaving now and soon Charlie became just a tiny spot between different tiny spots.

Fred and James sat down on the benches, but Nimwe stayed put at the window.

"You could sit down, you know." James said with one eyebrow up.

"We won't bite," Fred added. "We'll even play a game with you."

"Though we have to warn you. Our friends will come. You are allowed to stay here…"

"But we are not responsible for the consequences."

Nimwe looked at the two of them. "What consequences? They will bite me? I will die of an overdose of idiotic jokes. What is it?"

"Our jokes are just fine!" James said, slightly offended.

"Matter of opinion," Nimwe smirked and she sat down next to him. "I'll play one game. After that I'll look for Albus and Rose."

"Because those two are so funny," remarked Fred, but he hastily took out his set of Exploding Cards by the look of Nimwe.

They had one hour of fun with the game. Thirty minutes after the train had left King's Cross two boys had joined them in the carriage.

The one introduced as Bran O'Field was a tall, skinny boy with dark brown hair, grey eyes and an almost permanent smirk on his face. He had eyed Nimwe immediately and it had made her quite uncomfortable. The fact that he had taken a seat next to Fred, directly opposite Nimwe, had not helped her with that feeling.

His friend was slightly shorter than Bran and had a chocolate brown skin with brown, almost black dreadlocks and in his eyes of the same colour was a mischievous glister. His name was Ryan Jordan and he was the second son of Lee Jordan, the best friend of Fred's father George. It was obvious that the four of them together were a nightmare for the Hogwarts teachers.

Ryan and Fred had known each other their whole lives, so had Fred and James and Bran had joined the three on his first day at Hogwarts. They were the four boys of second year Gryffindor and were the troublemakers of Hogwarts.

Somehow Nimwe felt as though she had heard this story somewhere. "Please, don't tell me you have group name like, let's say…" she pretended to think for a moment. "The Marauders."

"We are still working on that," Bran said seriously.

"So, until we have found the perfect name, we are the Marauders part II," James said proudly.

"Just because you have that name your parents gave you," said Nimwe to James, "does _not _mean you have to act like your namesake."

"But it is fun!" No way there was another reason.

Boys, thought Nimwe, hopeless creatures, especially with Potter and Weasley genes. She had heard all the stories about the Marauders and James Potter's attempts to date his future wife Lily Evans and it was not hard to believe that these four boys were stepping in the Marauder's footsteps.

She stood up and left the carriage to look for Albus and Rose, just saying a short "Bye" to the boys.

"We'll see you later!" Bran could not resist shouting after her.

Nimwe walked down the corridor, checking every carriage for her friends. It was not easy to walk in a straight line and fast in the busy corridor. People were talking, walking, showing their newest purchases possessions in the corridor and were so stopping the flow in it.

Finally Nimwe caught sight of the red bush of hair that Rose owned. She almost fell inside when she tripped over the doorstep, but could keep herself just upright.

"Hello Nimwe, we haven't seen you all morning. Where were you?" Rose asked.

"I was with Fred and James. I met their friends Bran and Ryan," said Nimwe with some amusement.

"Ah, the Marauders part II," Albus smirked.

"Exaclty," Nimwe said. "I can't believe they want to be like your grandfather and his friends."

"My grandfather was cool."

"I don't know that, but are the Marauders part II not just a silly rip-off?" asked Nimwe critically.

"We will see, I guess. James and Fred together is just asking for trouble. We have no idea how the four of them are." Rose said reasonably. She decided to change the subject. "I'm so excited! I can't wait for the lessons to begin. I'm especially looking forward to Defence against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration. Ollivander said my wand is especially good for Transfiguration. What about yours?"

"Mine for Defence against the Dark Arts. I hope I'm good at it, just like Dad. I want to be an Auror too. What about yours, Nimwe?"

Nimwe suddenly felt very hot and avoided her friends' eyes by looking at the ground.

Rose pushed further. "We have not seen your wand yet. Tell us about it."

Nimwe scratched her head and looked up again, though she just stared at a spot in the shape of a fish on the wall. She stammered: "I-I… I don't exactly own a wand yet." It was silent in the carriage.

Rose was the first to open her mouth and break the uncomfortable silence. "That's not possible. Every witch and wizard requires a wand to perform magic. Ollivander has for everyone a wand."

"Not for me. But he is making me one." Nimwe added hastily. "He will send it to me this week, when it's ready."

"That is wicked." Albus said, looking at Nimwe with wonder. "He's making a wand for you, that's special. It will be customised for you."

Nimwe had not looked at it from that perspective. "Yes," she smiled a little again. "You're right." She did not dread her first week anymore, although it would be weird to be the only one without a wand. However, she would get her wand soon and be just like everyone else. It was like a heavy stone had just rolled of her back and she could relax more.

The rest of the journey was pleasant. When the lady with the food trolley passed by, Nimwe, Rose and Albus bought several candies and pies from their pocket money and shared them with each other. That was also the moment that the Marauders part II 'conveniently' passed by and could not resist the sweets.

Just before the dark fell in, Albus and Nimwe changed into their school robes. Rose did not have to, because she had already before the journey had begun. At last the train began to slow down and after a few moments stopped at Hogsmeade station. Nimwe felt a jolt of excitement and stood up with Rose and Albus. One after the other they walked out of the carriage, through the corridor out of the train with the rest of the students. There was no need to take their luggage with them, had James explained to Nimwe during a game of Exploding Snap, the house-elves would take care of them.

As soon as they stepped out of the train they heard a booming deep voice on their left. "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" A large man with wild brown hair and black eyes was calling to the frightened looking first years that were stepping out of the train and now carefully gathering around him.

"Hi, Hagrid!" Albus said happily to the giant man. Nimwe greeted him with a wave. She had known him since Harry's birthday a few months after she had moved in with the Weasleys. Rubeus Hagrid was the Gamekeeper and the teacher Care of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts and happened to be a half-giant. He was the one that had introduced Harry to the magical world and was a surviving member of the Order of the Phoenix. Nimwe had been frightened of him at first, but at the end of the day she had found out that his heart was as big as his appearance, especially for magical creatures.

"Hi, Albus, Rose and Nimwe. Had a good journey? Firs' years!" Hagrid shouted again.

"Fine! We are now going to the boats right?" Rose asked.

"Yup. But firs' I have to gather all new students. Firs' years over here!"

Ten minutes later it seemed that every first year students had gathered around him and Hagrid led the way over a narrow path. "Ye'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid shouted over his shoulder. Indeed, after Nimwe passed the bend and nothing was blocking the view, she saw the beautiful castle that would be her home and school for the next year. "Wow," was the general response and for Nimwe it was even more than wow. The castle was massive and the outline showed that it had four towers in a gothic style.

The group stopped by a dozen boats at the edge of a giant lake. In groups of four they sat in the boats, which began to move when Hagrid shouted "Forward!"

Somehow Nimwe had lost her friends and was now sitting in a boat with three strangers: one girl and two boys. The girl was smiling happily and had hazel eyes. She tucked her light auburn, red hair behind her ears, before she introduced herself. "I'm Cassandra McLaggen. I'm so thrilled to be here. What's your name?"

"Nimwe la Faye." Nimwe answered and the two girls now looked at the boys behind them for some introductions.

The boy on the right had white blonde hair that was easy recognisable in the dark, a pointy face and grey eyes. The other boy was quite his opposite with black hair, brown eyes and round features. He was the one that answered first: "My name is Jack Dator. My parents are both non-magical, so it was quite a shock when Professor Burnewood came to visit us."

"Oh, a muggleborn. How nice." Cassandra said. "And your name is…?" She looked at the other boy. He looked back coolly and answered: "Scorpius Malfoy and don't you dare to laugh at my name."

Nimwe looked back seriously, indicating that she did not dare to do it. Cassandra on the other hand looked at the boy intently. "Family of _the _Malfoys?"

"Depends on who you are referring to." He answered in an arrogant way, but Nimwe had the idea that it was defence, not his usual attitude. "But I am the son of Draco Malfoy, if it matters."

For Cassandra this said enough; she nodded and did not ask anything else. Nimwe however had the feeling she knew the name, but she just could not grasp in what context she had heard it. After Scorpius' response, she did not want to ask what is family was or had done.

The four were silent in the boat and looked around to see something. It was not much, the light of the lantern on the front of the boat did not reach a wide surface.

"Heads down!" Hagrid shouted now from the boat in front, which he had for himself. The cliffs were now very low and Nimwe followed Hagrid's advice without hesitation. They sailed through an entrance in the cliff, which was masked by ivy and ended up in a dark tunnel. Nimwe presumed that it led to somewhere near the Hogwarts castle. She was proven right when the boats stopped, everyone got out and Hagrid led the way up to the wooden doors of their new school.


	6. The Sorting Ceremony

**Time for Chapter six! As you can read in the title it is all about the Houses and where everyone will be sorted. I hope you enjoy it :D Please give a review, it doesn't matter if it's positive or negative, as long as it can help me improve my writing.**

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**Chapter 6: The Sorting Ceremony**

Hagrid raised his hand in a fist as if wanted to knock, but was beaten by a tall, thin, grey haired wizard in robes of the same colour. His eyes were two different colours; his right one was blue and the other one was hazel, and both looked at the students with great interest. It seemed as though he was searching for someone, but he gave up after a moment and stepped aside.

"Please, come inside." His voice was deep and not unpleasant to hear: there was wisdom in it.

The whole group did what he told them and were now standing in a massive entrance hall. The man closed the door again and than turned his attention back to the group of nervous looking students.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My name is Professor Burnewood and I am the Deputy Headmaster and Transfiguration teacher at this school. Normally I would take you to an empty room on this floor, however Peeves, our poltergeist, thought it was necessary to drop dungbombs in it. I will give you the introduction talk here instead.

"In a moment you will enter the Great Hall, where you will be sorted by the Sorting Hat into one of the four houses. These houses are Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Each represent an important characteristic and each house has produced noticeable witches and wizards in history. See your house as your family: you will have lessons with them, sleep in the same dormitory and spend free time in the common room. At the end of the year the house with the most points will be awarded the House Cup and I expect of every one of you that you will support your house as good as possible.

"Now, we will enter the Great Hall. Make sure you look presentable; the Sorting Ceremony will be held in front of all the teachers and students of Hogwarts."

Professor Burnewood abruptly turned around and beckoned the students to follow him to another set of wooden doors. He paused for a moment and looked back at the students.

"Please stand in a proper line. You will stay in that line until your name is read from the list, which means you will be sorted. You will take your seat at the table of your new house as soon as the Hat has sorted you, understood?"

Some children said yes rather softly and Nimwe just nodded yes, the lump in her throat stopped her from talking. She took deep breaths, just to slow down her heartbeat and drive the nervous feeling in her stomach away.

"Follow me." The professor pushed the door open and walked between two tables to the other end of the Great Hall where a table, perpendicular to the four tables full of students in black robes, stood. The teachers were seated there; in the middle on the highest chair sat a stern looking witch with glasses and her black and grey hair were in a tight bun. Somewhere on the left side, between a pompous-looking witch and a small wizard, was Hagrid who smiled reassuringly at the first year students.

The line halted next to the teachers' table on the left side of the wall and now Nimwe could take a good look at the Hall. The ceiling was magicked and showed the sky as it was outside at that moment. Grey clouds were flying by slowly and the moon was a small bent line in the dark sky. Candles were floating in the air and their flames lit up the golden plates, goblets and cutlery on the five tables. At the table the furthest away from Nimwe, she saw the easy recognisable red haired Weasleys. Fred was waving at his cousins and Victoire, though blonde, also waved shortly. James was looking at his cousin with shock on his face. Clearly he could still not comprehend that she and Teddy were seeing each other romantically.

An elbow against her arm caught her attention: Cassandra pointed to the hat, which now straightened up and a rip opened like a mouth. The Sorting Hat began to sing:

_As always I sing my song_

_At the start of a new year_

_By singing these words_

_I all welcome you here_

_A few centuries ago_

_The four founders were growing old_

_The school would go on_

_But wanted their tradition to hold_

_The students selected by Gryffindor_

_All were chivalrous and brave_

_To wear the colours red and gold_

_Sense of adventure had to crave_

_Slytherin did not quite agree_

_His students had to be ambitious _

_And not afraid to proof themselves_

_Sometimes bordering on malicious_

_Wise and smart was Ravenclaw_

_That was what was needed_

_To receive her teaching_

_And be by wisdom inspired_

_Hufflepuff welcomed every student_

_Everyone deserved to be taught_

_Tolerance and loyalty_

_Was all she sought_

_Now it is your turn_

_First years at school_

_To put me on your head_

_While sitting on this stool_

_I will read your character_

_And decide which shade_

_Red, Green, Blue or Yellow_

_You are going to parade_

The students enthusiastically clapped and the Hat bowed as a good performer to each table before him.

Professor Burnewood left his place at the head of the line and walked forward with a rolled up parchment in his hand. The noise of clapping and whispering disappeared. He stopped next to the Sorting Hat, rolled out the parchment and took the tip of the Hat in his other hand.

"When I call your name," his voice easily carried through the silent Hall, "please step forward and sit on the stool. I will place the hat on your head.

"Anderson, Stanley." A round boy with thin blonde hair stumbled forward with a slight blush on his face. Professor Burnewood placed the hat on the boy's head. The hat did not talk for a few seconds, before shouting: "HUFFLEPUFF!" The table nearest the line of first year students cheered and clapped for him and Stanley walked relieved towards them.

"Branagh, Patrick." This was a boy who seemed shy. "RAVENCLAW!" The table three away let Patrick here where he had to go.

"Dator, Jack" The dark haired boy from the boat walked excited forward and sat down. "GRYFFINDOR" With a big smile he walked to the table where most Weasleys were sitting. "Draconis, Jade" followed him soon after. "Emerald, Caroline" went to Ravenclaw and "Epwitch, Terence" was sorted into Hufflepuff.

All too soon for Nimwe's feeling, Burnewood read "la Faye, Nimwe". Her stomach leaped for a moment, almost touching her throat, and nervously she walked forward. She felt the eyes of all the teachers and all the students on her, although she had the feeling that some teachers, including the Headmistress, were looking with more interest than normal. She sat down and the Hat was put on her head, so blocking her view on the Hall; now it was all darkness she saw.

A voice whispered in her ear: "Ah, I see courage in you, but also a love for reading. You've experienced something that just a few have and it has shaped you." A moment of silence. "I best put you in GRYFFINDOR!" The last word was shouted through the Hall, just like with every time before that. The Sorting Hat was lifted of her head and she saw the table most right cheering for her. With a relieved smile she walked to it and sat down on the bench next to Jack, who grinned at her. A few seats away James and Fred were cheering loudly, chanting her name over and over again. She laughed and waved them a bit embarrassed to be quiet. She sat with her back to the wall and could so easily see every one of her fellow students. Rose was fidgeting with her left sleeve and Albus was taking deep breaths, looking white as chalk.

A girl with long black hair was now sitting on the stool with the Hat and was sorted into in "GRYFFINDOR!" She sat down next to Jade (with blonde hair and green eyes) opposite Jack and Nimwe.

The Sorting went on: "Frye, Allard" was the first Slytherin, "Granter, Daniel" a Ravenclaw and "Gyleth, Zachary," joined Allard at the Slytherin table. "Kay, Orina," was a difficult case, but was sorted into Slytherin in the end.

Professor Burnewood read the next name. "Malfoy, Scorpius." He walked to the stool, avoiding any eye contact and Nimwe could not blame him; there were a few hissed whispers in the Hall. Still she could not remember how she knew his name. The Hat took a long time to decide, but finally shouted: "GRYFFINDOR!" The clapping was first careful: it seemed that, especially the older students, were surprised. Nimwe just clapped for him and smiled at him, when he had reached the table. He sat down opposite her next to the girl with the long black hair.

"McLaggen, Cassandra." Nimwe looked with interest at the girl who had sat next to her in the boat, who now walked to the stool, sat down and was almost immediately sorted into "GRYFFINDOR!" Cassandra walked beamingly to the Gryffindor and sat down next to Nimwe.

"Oh this is so good." Cassandra whispered as "Naxon, Nathan," was called forward. "Now I know already someone and I like you. We are going to have fun!"

"HUFFLEPUFF," the Hat shouted.

Nimwe smiled shortly and nodded. She liked the girl and did not doubt that she was boring. Her attention was at the Sorting Ceremony again, where "Nuvelle, Cecelia," had just been sorted into Slytherin.

The Sorting Ceremony went on and Nimwe heard a few of names passing by. "Payne, Georgina" and "Parroty, Shirlyn" followed Cecelia to Slytherin. Finally a familiar name was called: "Potter, Albus." The almost exact copy of Harry Potter walked forward. Whispers were heard through the Great Hall. No one doubted that this boy was the son of Harry Potter, the man who Voldemort, when he was only seventeen. Jack leaned to Nimwe. "What's all the fuss about?"

She looked surprised for a second, but then remembered that Jack was a muggleborn and had never heard of Harry Potter or Voldemort. "His father is extremely famous. He defeated the darkest wizard of all times, Lord Voldemort, more than nineteen years ago. Albus is like a miniature human of his Dad, so he is easily recognisable."

"Ah," said Jack, understanding a bit of it.

"Research some books, you are bound to find it," Nimwe advised him.

The Hat did not need a lot of time to sort Albus. "GRYFFINDOR!" The clapping and cheering was loud when Albus walked to the Gryffindor table.

"Or," Nimwe said smiling, bringing her mouth to Jack's ear to make sure he heard her, "you could ask it himself. If you're nice, I'm sure he won't mind." Jack nodded in response, still clapping for the new recruit.

Albus had reached the table and sat on the bench next to Scorpius. "Hi, Nimwe. Now we are in the same house! Hopefully Rose will join us soon."

Nimwe just nodded as a response, because the Sorting had continued. "Prowse, Willow" became a Hufflepuff, "Rapetti, Luca" and "Rapetti, Maria" a twin, and "Reid, Iain" were all sorted into Ravenclaw and "Ricfield, Ilana" and "Sinclair, Gareth" were both new Hufflepuffs. "Selwyn, Calhoun" who was sorted before Gareth, was a Slytherin and got quite a few glares from older students. Nimwe had a feeling she knew why: his father had been imprisoned for helping Voldemort.

"Topsen, Rianna" joined Ravenclaw, "Tulins, Peter" the Slytherin table and "Vesuves, Valerie" became a Hufflepuff.

Finally it was Rose's turn. As soon as her name was called out, she walked eagerly, but stressed to the stool and sat down. Rose proved to be a difficult case for the Sorting Hat, because she sat there as long as Scorpius had. At last he made his decision and Nimwe held her breath.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Nimwe's eyes widened and she immediately looked at Albus. He shrugged and clapped for Rose, who walked with an apologetic smile at her cousin to the Ravenclaw table.

The last girl standing in the now non-existing line was "Yang, Meiling" and she joined Rose at the Ravenclaw table.

Professor Burnewood carried the stool and the Sorting Hat out of the way and the stern looking witch, who Nimwe had assumed to be the Headmistress, stood up. Some people had begun to whisper, but they fell immediately silent when she stood up.

"Welcome, new students. Welcome back, old students." Her voice was clear and confident. The woman was not someone to cross, felt Nimwe. "I ask just a little of your attention before the feast begins. Firstly I have to stress the fact that the Forbidden Forest is named like this for a reason. It harbours dangerous creatures and I will not allow any student to enter the forest.

"Secondly, Mr Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to remind you that magic is not allowed in the corridors between classes and that the list with banned products is still in tact. It can be seen in his office for all the curious people." With the tone in her voice the professor made clear that she did not believe that anyone would make use of that 'privilege'.

"Thirdly there has been a change in the teaching staff. Professor Flitwick has said goodbye to us last year and this year professor Flitwick's nephew, professor Flitwick has agreed to take the job of teaching Charms and he is the new Head of Ravenclaw." The small man next to Hagrid stood up and it was as if though he had shrunk. His head was barely above the table. There was a polite applause for him. "I also think," the Headmistress continued, "that this is an excellent moment to tell you that at the end of this school year I am going to retire and thus will leave the school." Surprised reactions came from the students and some were already discussing who was going to be the new Head of Hogwarts.

"Lastly: the lessons will start tomorrow at nine o'clock sharp. Make sure you are at breakfast before half past eight to receive your schedule.

"I all wish you a good school year. Now, enjoy your feast." She spread her arms for a short moment and out of nowhere food appeared on the golden plates on the middle of the tables.

"Wow" was the general response of the first years and Nimwe could not agree more. She put some food on her plate and enjoyed the meal so much that she did not speak for the first fifteen minutes just like the other first year Gryffindors.

Cassandra was the first one to open her mouth. "So, tell me about yourselves. First names, please, I didn't catch them all at the Sorting Ceremony."

"Why don't you begin," asked Albus.

"Oh, yeah, sure." She straightened up and cleared her throat. "My name is Cassandra McLaggen, I am eleven years old, my birthday is April 24 and both my parents are magical. Next one!" She looked at Nimwe, who took it as her cue to introduce herself.

"I am Nimwe la Faye, eleven years old, my birthday is on the first of May and, uhm," she hesitated for a moment, "both my parents are magical." She was not ready to tell her whole life story yet.

The boy next to her was next. "Jack Dator, eleven, born on 22nd of October and both my parents are, I believe it's called muggles?" He looked at Nimwe for confirmation. She nodded. The attention crossed the table and it was now the turn of a pretty girl with blond straight hair and dark green eyes.

"My name is Jade Draconis, eleven, my birthday is January 18 and I'm a halfblood, though my mother has always known magic due to her brother who was a muggleborn wizard. They met because of my uncle, so that's good."

The girl next to her with dark hair, dark eyes and a light brown skin spoke: "Sharada Flynn, eleven like every first year here, my birthday is 28th of March and my parents are both wizards. My mother is a muggleborn."

Scorpius Malfoy was next. He did not seem to like the whole 'let's introduce ourselves'-thing, but still he played along. "Scorpius Malfoy, eleven, born on 23 December and I have two magical parents."

The last one to introduce himself was Albus and before beginning, he pushed his glasses a little higher. "My name is Albus Potter and yes I'm Harry Potter's son, but that's all. I'm eleven, was born on April 20 and my parents are also both magical."

Jack seemed eager to ask Albus all about his father, but they were too far apart to discretely talk about it. Instead he turned to Nimwe and Cassandra to get to know the new world he was in better.

"So, you must have been using magic all your life!"

Cassandra laughed and Nimwe answered: "No, not really. You need a wand for that and until you are eleven and go to school, you may not use a wand. There is some accidental magic, but that's all."

"So, I am not behind on anything?"

"Nope," Cassandra said, "just on general knowledge of the magical world, but just don't be afraid to ask and read, and you'll be just fine."

"Cool."

"So, how did your parents take it?" Nimwe asked Jack.

"Being a wizard? We all three stared at professor Burnewood for about a minute, before asking any questions. He asked if any weird stuff had happened when I was happy or very angry and there have, so I believed him. My parents were a bit sceptical, but after he demonstrated something, it was all well. Have you been to Diagon Alley? It's the best place ever! Especially finding your wand is incredible, it just took Ollivander three wands to select mine. I can't wait to use it."

Nimwe just nodded, not commenting on the wand aspect. She turned to Cassandra. "So, did your parents go to Hogwarts?"

"Oh, yes. My father was a Gryffindor and my mother a Ravenclaw, though they did not meet at school. Which is a good thing, I heard my father was a bit arrogant during his time at school. And your parents?"

Nimwe did not know what to say for a moment. She looked for help at Albus, but he was in a serious conversation with Scorpius. Both looked troubled and Nimwe wondered what that was about. "My father was a Gryffindor too. I don't know what my mother was, because I've never known her." Nimwe looked at the plate before her and moved some mushrooms around with her fork. "She left my father and me when I was just a few hours old."

"How horrible!" Cassandra said, shortly touching Nimwe's arm. "So now it is just you and your dad or has he found another wife?"

Nimwe shook her head, taking deep breaths to lighten the pain in her chest. "Neither of that. He passed away about a month before my ninth birthday. I've been living with my godfather and his parents ever since. Albus is my godfather's nephew, so he is like family."

"I'm so sorry for you. May I ask how he died?"

"My father used to work with dragons…"

"Dragons exist?" exclaimed Jack before realising it was inappropriate what he did. He slammed his hand before his mouth and whispered "sorry,"

Nimwe smiled at him, indicating that she did not mind it a lot. "So, he used to work with dragons and one day he got hit by the tail of one of the Green Horned Dragons. Help did not come fast enough, so it must have been a heavy blow and the poison did not help either, I reckon."

"I can't imagine being without my parents or without my brothers," Cassandra said.

"You have brothers?" Nimwe would take every opportunity to change the subject.

"Yes, I do. They are both older than I am. Leander, he is in sixth year in Ravenclaw, was an accident. My parents knew each other just a few months; it scared the hell out of them. Jason is a third year Gryffindor." She looked at the students at the crowded table and pointed then at a boy who had the same colour hair as she did and was talking with big hand gestures to his friends.

Jade and Sharada bend over to see who Cassandra and Nimwe were talking about. "Oh," Jade said, "our brothers know each other. Mine is the one next to him with the blonde hair."

"Funny," Cassandra said. "Any of you have siblings here at Hogwarts?"

Sharada nodded with her head. "I have two younger brothers." Scorpius, Nimwe and Jack shook their head indicating they were an only child, but Albus nodded. "My brother is a second year Gryffindor." He looked at the table and pointed to James, who was talking animatedly with Bran. Albus pointed to them. "The one with the same messy black hair as I have."

"Not hard to miss," Jade said. "Though you look a lot more like your father."

"No need to deny that," Albus answered, though slightly embarrassed.

Nimwe looked at Scorpius. "I'm sorry that I ask this, but where do I know your last name from?" He looked at her with calculating eyes. She looked him right back in the eyes, hoping that he would find what he was looking for or not if he was looking for something negative. After just a second he decided that he would answer truthfully.

"My grandfather Lucius Malfoy" he spat out the name as if it was a rotten piece of food, "was a Death Eater. My father also followed Voldemort for about a year, but he was forced to do it. His father on the other hand still believes that everything revolves around purebloods."

"Oh." Nimwe was silent for a moment. The tone he told his short story in made clear to her why he was so defensive. She looked at Albus, who had clearly known it all along. He caught her eye and shrugged as if it did not matter to him. Albus had always been a calm guy, not judgmental at all. She gave him a nod that she understood and asked no more to Scorpius about his family.

The feast ended soon and when everyone was done, the Headmistress stood up. "I hope you enjoyed your meal. Now it is time to go to bed. Prefects, please guide the first years to their dormitories. I will see you here tomorrow morning _before _half past nine." Her eyes were set on a few pupils, including James and friends and then she waved them goodbye.

Everyone stood up and the Great Hall began to empty. The first year Gryffindor stayed where they were, waiting for the Prefect to find them. Nimwe stood next to Cassandra, looking if they saw someone walking to them. A boy with half long brown hair and a badge with the letter P came to them. Just before he reached the group Nimwe felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around to look at a tall man with dirty blonde hair and round features. On his dark green robes were some spots of dirt and his fingernails were not the cleanest ones.

He smiled at her and said: "Miss la Faye. You know me, I assume." He waited for a moment for Nimwe to nod. She indeed knew him from some birthday parties at the Potters and some of the Weasleys. He was Neville Longbottom, a good friend of Harry, Ron and Hermione and the Herbology teacher at Hogwarts.

"Good. I am the Head of Gryffindor and I and the Headmistress would like to speak to you tomorrow morning." Nimwe's eyes widened and she looked with fright at the professor. "No, no, don't worry." He waved his hands. "It's about your wand, nothing to worry about. I will pick you up at half past seven in the Common Room and we will go to professor McGonagall's office, okay?"

"Yes, professor," Nimwe said and professor Longbottom walked away. Nimwe turned back to the group, who were waiting for her. Albus looked at her questioningly, but she signalled that it was okay and that she would tell him later.

"So, everyone ready?" asked the Prefect. "Good. My name is Aiden and for any questions about Hogwarts you can come to me, one of the other Prefects or the Head Boy or Girl. For now, just follow me." He set off and led them out of the Great Hall to the east side of the castle into one of the high towers. Nimwe tried to remember where they were walking, but she felt so tired and the moving stairs and complicated directions did not help her. In the tower after a long staircase they stood before a painting of a fat lady in a frivolous pink dress.

"You will need a password to get into the Gryffindor tower and that password is now _Leo Fortis._" The painting swung on its side to the left and revealed the entrance that was hidden behind it. "Don't forget it." Aiden let everyone first inside and helped a few who were too full of food to function normally. They entered the Common Room, which was full of squashy red armchairs, tables and with two fireplaces. Two staircases led to opposite ways: Aiden sent the boys to the left one and the girls to the right one. He wished them goodnight and good luck on their first school day the following day. Nimwe trudged upstairs and in the girl's dormitory with a big one above the door, she quickly changed into her pyjamas, brushed her teeth and fell on the bed next to the room where her trunk had been placed. Her head had just hit the pillow and she was off to sleep.


	7. Her Gift

**This is the most important chapter up until now. I hope you like the twist this story takes, otherwise I will lose some readers, I'm afraid, because I won't change it.**

**Please leave a review with your thoughts when you've finished reading this chapter.**

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**Chapter 7: Her gift**

It had been a dreamless night for Nimwe. She woke early, because the radio next to her bed began playing. "Good morning!" said the radio broadcaster in a voice full spirit. "it's another beautiful day on this Tuesday in September."

Nimwe moaned and searched with her hand until she had found the radio and shut it off. She rolled over on her stomach, but knew that she had to get out of bed. At half past seven professor Longbottom would be waiting for her in the Common Room and they would go to the Headmistress. She did look forward to it.

She rolled back, sat up and stretched her upper body with a big yawn. Come on, Nimwe, she thought, professor Longbottom said it was nothing to worry about. I have nothing to worry about. It's normal that they want a talk, because you are still wandless.

With those semi-encouraging words she stepped out of bed and walked to the bathroom, taking shampoo and new clothes with her. The water of the shower woke her up and she began to feel some excitement about the day. This was the first day of school. When she walked out of the bathroom, the other girls in the dormitory began to wake up.

"Nimwe, where you going?" asked Cassandra in a sleepy voice. She was in the bed next to Nimwe's and was now rubbing in her eyes to get the sleep out of them.

"I have to go to professor Longbottom. I will see you at breakfast," she hurried out of the room, because she did not want to explain why she had to go to the teacher.

In the red and gold Common Room were just a few freakish early students and near the window, looking at the grounds and the forest, stood professor Longbottom, today in night blue robes.

By the sound of her footsteps on the stairs he turned around. "Good morning, miss la Faye, I hope you slept well."

Nimwe stood next to him, putting her head in her neck to look him in the eyes. "Good morning, sir. I did, thank you. You have not waited long for me, I hope?"

"No, not at all. Well, we should go, it will be a busy breakfast this morning, so we are on a tight schedule." He let her go first through the round hole and then led the way. They walked across the seventh floor until they were standing before a gargoyle. "Kurilian Bobtail" professor Longbottom said and the gargoyle stepped aside, revealing a wall that split in to. Behind it was a staircase that was now circling up.

"Hop on," professor Longbottom said and Nimwe hastily did as he said. They waited for the stairs to reach the oak doors and stepped of it. The professor knocked twice on the doors and the stern voice of the Headmistress told them to come in.

Nimwe was deeply impressed when she saw professor McGonagall's office. The circular room was beautiful: on the walls hung portraits of sleeping and awake wizards and witches (Nimwe recognised Albus Dumbledore on the portrait directly behind the desk; he was looking at her with great interest), there were several bookcases full of books and on several small tables were silver instruments that Nimwe had never seen before. Behind the desk that was systematically covered in papers, quills and a few books, sat the stern looking witch that had welcomed the school: Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.

"You're right on time. We have to wait a few minutes though; our visitor is right on his way. Please sit down." She pointed at the three wooden chairs that were standing at the other side of the desk. Nimwe took the middle chair and professor Longbottom took the chair left to her. Because they had to wait, Nimwe took a good look at the paintings. Somehow they seemed to be painted by the same painter, however the dates underneath each painting differed so much that that was impossible. The old headmasters and headmistresses that were still asleep were slowly waking up, although Nimwe had the feeling that several were faking it. One portrait of a bored looking wizard was yawning so loud that it had to be an act.

Nimwe noticed that a lot of portraits were looking at her with an unusual interest and curiosity. She avoided their eyes: it made her feel very uncomfortable. She had just begun looking at the books, trying to read their titles from a distance, when three knocks were heard on the door behind her.

"Please enter," professor McGonagall said and to Nimwe's great surprise, Charlie Weasley walked in. He was wearing his work robes, his dark brown travelling cloak and dragon's skin boots and in his hands was a square package wrapped in paper.

"Good morning, professor McGonagall, Neville." He shook their hands and sat down on the chair on the right of Nimwe. "And good morning to you. Didn't expect to see you so soon." He was making a joke, but it was clear that he was as worried as Nimwe was.

"Thank you for coming, mister Weasley. I am sorry that it was on such a short notice," professor McGonagall said.

"Oh don't worry," Charlie waved it away. "I was just finishing my packing for Romania. I had already planned to not go to work today. But I am curious why Nimwe and I are here today."

The moment of truth. The question that Nimwe wanted to ask, but did not dare to.

The professors looked at each other in a moment of agreement and the Headmistress began to speak. "About a month ago I received a peculiar letter of mister Ollivander. You went to buy a wand, like every first year student, however mister Ollivander did not succeed in finding you one."

"That's right," Charlie interrupted. "But Ollivander said that he would make a wand specially for Nimwe. It should arrive this week."

The witch nodded. "Yes, he wrote me that he told you that. In the letter he also wrote that he thinks that not having the right wand for miss la Faye is not the problem."

Nimwe frowned: what did this mean? She looked at Charlie, but he seemed clueless too.

"He has encountered this problem before: about six times. And each time it turned out that the witch or wizard in question did not require a wand." She looked at Nimwe intently, as if that sentence explained everything.

Nimwe was looking back in disbelief. She thought she knew what Professor McGonagall meant, but it sounded so bizarre that she could not believe it.

Charlie took the word: "So if I understand this right, Nimwe does not need a wand?"

"Correct."

"What is it that she needs to perform magic or are you saying that she can't perform magic?" Nimwe looked shocked at him. Not performing magic, that would not be good. With widened eyes she looked back at the headmistress; almost begging with her eyes to tell her that she was still a witch.

"What I mean is that miss la Faye does not need anything to perform magic, except herself." Nimwe was more confused and waited eagerly for more information.

"Every witch and wizard needs a wand to cast a spell, that is a general rule. However, there are some exceptions to the rule and miss la Faye is one of them. She will use her hands to perform magic, not a wand."

"My hands?" Nimwe asked, looking at them, as if they had changed in the few minutes of the conversation. They had not.

"Yes, your hands. The system," McGonagall raised her hands to draw quotation marks in the air, "of magic in every wizard or witch's body is designed in such a way that we need a wand to generate the magic. Your body is designed slightly differently. Instead of embracing a wand as a mean to cast a spell, your body rejects it. Mr Ollivander mentioned that you found the wands feeling unpleasant in your hand."

Nimwe nodded, remembering the feeling well.

"That was your body rejecting the wand. Now, I asked Mr Weasley if there was a permanent example of your magic. Something out of the ordinary for a child to do." She looked at Charlie, who nodded and he began to unwrap the package to reveal two canvases. He turned them around and Nimwe was looking at two of her own paintings. One was the first one she had ever painted. The background was still black and purple; the tree however had changed since that day just before her ninth birthday. It had grown slightly and the branches were full of green leaves and light pink cherry blossoms. The other painting was a bit more recent and was inspired by a scene of a book she had read. She had read about a group of friends, sharing secrets and stories around a campfire, which had some blue flames due to salt on the wood it was burning on. The friends were the Weasley grandchildren; Nimwe felt great friendship and love for them and she had successfully tried to put that in the painting. The flames were competing in which could climb the highest and the children were talking and drinking butterbeer. Sometimes one of them stood up to get more wood or food.

McGonagall and Longbottom both stood up and examined the paintings intently. Professor Longbottom was the first to stand straight up again. He looked at Nimwe and asked: "This is your work? Without any help or whatsoever?"

"Yes," Nimwe answered. She did not know what was going on or what the teachers were thinking.

"Albus, would you like to see it?" McGonagall asked the painting behind her chair. The painted man with a long silver beard and piercing blue eyes behind half moon spectacles nodded eagerly. She walked to him with the painting of the tree and held it up, close to the painting, to show him.

"Minerva, she is definitely one. Without an education or a wand no painter can accomplish this." The voice of the late Headmaster was soft, but could clearly be heard by everyone in the office.

"So I was right," Charlie mumbled. He shook his head when Nimwe looked questioningly at him. "Will you tell us what you see in these paintings and how this discovery will affect Nimwe?"

Professor Longbottom answered his question now. "As you know, a magical painter needs certain spells to get moving paintings as a result. Miss la Faye did not use any spells or whatsoever to achieve this, am I right?" Nimwe nodded. "She just painted and the finished work was moving. This is a confirmation of our theory that miss la Faye is a manual witch. We don't have a word for it, I'm afraid. She directed her magic through her hand to the brush to the canvas."

Professor Longbottom continued. "So, the most important question now is: what do we do with it? You will follow all normal classes and do as everyone does, just without a wand. I would like to have private lessons with you once a month to perfect your magic and research manual magic. We think that you will need spells and have to make the same movements as wandusers, but it can be possible that you have to alter it slightly to get the wished result. We will do that in private lessons. They will be with me or professor McGonagall. I think Friday afternoon will be best: we will discuss the week and work with the things you have learned. Do you mind that we document our discoveries and observations of miss la Faye?" Professor Longbottom looked at Charlie for that.

He thought for a moment. "That is fine, but I don't want her to be treated like a guinea pig. Is it possible to not publish any information until you are very sure about it and to keep in mind that Nimwe is just a young teenage girl exploring her magic? I don't want the press swarming around her and interrupting her normal life."

The Heasmistress nodded. "This is an extraordinary situation and I think we should handle it with care. I can't promise that the press won't find out about her and ask questions, but I promise that we will only publish relevant information. She is a special case and we shouldn't rush anything just to get publicity."

"I don't want any publicity," Nimwe said. She wanted to be as normal as she could be.

"That's fine," Longbottom said. "Now, we should go to the Great Hall for breakfast. I think a lot of students are eagerly awaiting their schedule."

Nimwe and Charlie nodded and stood up. Charlie shook the hands of the professors and gave Nimwe a short hug. "I reckon you are a Gryffindor now?" Nimwe nodded. "Good. Take care, don't worry about this and write to me, okay?"

"Yes, Charlie, thank you. Have a good trip to Romania."

"Thank you. Bye." Charlie walked out of the office with the two paintings wrapped in paper under his arm.

"We will go to the Great Hall," McGonagall said and the three of them exited the office, went down the stairs and were soon they had left the gargoyle behind them. Nimwe began to recognise a few stairs and ways to get to the Great Hall, but still she felt that she would not be able to find the way back immediately.

In the Great Hall a lot of students were eating their breakfast and chatting about the summer holidays. Nimwe walked to the table the most right and sat down next to Albus, who said hi in a surprised tone.

"Where were you?" he asked just before taking a bite of his toast.

"In McGonagall's office with her, Longbottom and Charlie."

"Charlie? What was he doing here?"

"You remember our talk in the train about wands? About that Ollivander would make me one? Not going to happen."

"What?" Albus exclaimed, firing crumbles out of his mouth.

"Ieuw, Albus, manners!" Cassandra said on Nimwe's other side, startling the girl.

"Cassandra! You heard what I said just now?"

"Yup. So you don't have a wand? What now?"

"I don't need a wand." Nimwe looked from her one side to the other, looking into two identical shocked expressions of Albus and Cassandra. "I can do magic with just my hands."

"Wicked," Cassandra said, now in awe.

Albus looked confused. "But how is that possible?"

Nimwe explained everything she had heard in the conversation: about her different magical system and what it meant for her. "So I'm just normal with a slightly different magic."

"I've never heard of it before," Albus said.

"It's not common, it's very very rare actually. McGonagall and Longbottom could not tell me much about it. I will have private lessons every week and we will document them to find out more about more."

"Like an animal in a zoo?" Cassandra asked.

"No! No!" Nimwe said resolutely. "I'm not a monkey in a cage. I want to be a normal student at Hogwarts."

"Then I hope that the Daily Prophet won't hear about you for a long time."

"Don't count on it," Albus added and Nimwe knew he was right.

"First years! All slept well, I hope?" The Head of Gryffindor stood behind Cassandra and Nimwe, beaming at all the seven Gryffindors that had been sorted yesterday. They nodded and mumbled yes. He did not seem to mind, because he conjured some parchments with his wands. "These are your schedules for the whole year. Every week is the same. Make sure you are on time and you have fifteen minutes between classes to get to the right classroom. Good luck on your first day, then." And the professor moved along to the fifth years next to them.

"Transfiguration, nice," Scorpius said and Albus nodded fervently agreeing more than anyone else. Nimwe felt a jolt of nervousness in her stomach. This could be the first time to really use her magic. She could already imagine everything going wrong and the professor telling her that the Headmistress must have made a mistake, because she could not do magic.

"Come on, Nimwe, we have to get our books and stuff," Cassandra was already standing and the others were already almost out of the Hall. Nimwe hurried up and followed everyone. With the seven of them they had it a little easier in finding their way back to the Gryffindor tower. In her dormitory Nimwe put _Theory of Transfiguration and how to perform it, A History of Magic, The Standard Book of Spells Grade 1, _parchment, ink and a quill in her shoulder bag. She hurried back to the Common Room where Albus, Scorpius and Jack were already waiting.

"They are on their way," Nimwe said to them, referring to Cassandra, Jade and Sharada that were still in the girl's dormitory. Sharada could not find her book for History of Magic and was now close to panicking. Nimwe had left the scene; she did not feel that she was a useful contribution to the search: all three girls had already dived into the trunk.

"We're here!" Cassandra yelled from the stairs, running to them with Jade and Sharada behind her. "A sixth year has helped us with a Summoning spell. I have to learn that, it's so handy!"

"Come on," Scorpius said. "We have to go to the first floor says the schedule." As a herd they walked down the stairs, were tricked by some stairs to go to the fourth floor and finally, with a few minutes to spare they arrived in the classroom. The other half of the class, the Ravenclaws had already arrived and behind the desk facing the students was Professor Burnewood. He had crossed his arms and was looking at everyone with an examining look. It seemed he was trying to figure out what kind of class this one would be.

Nimwe looked around and saw Rose sitting on the first row next to a black haired girl with some freckles. Rose was looking at the group of Gryffindor that had just entered and waved at Albus and Nimwe. They waved back and then searched a spot. Albus took a seat next to Scorpius and Jack and Nimwe sat down next to Cassandra in the other row. She pulled her Transfiguration book out of her bag and added some parchment, her inkpot and the quill to it on the desk.

Professor Burnewood cleared his throat and walked around the desk to stand in front of it. "Welcome to Transfiguration. In this class you will learn to change an object into another and back. It is one of the most complex and dangerous magic to be learned, so I expect of you that you will handle this class with care.

"This lesson we will make a start with practical Transfiguration. We will start however, with a few notes."

Those few notes were complicated and long notes, which took an hour to write. After that the professor gave them each a match and told them the spell to turn them into a needle. Everyone immediately began to yell the spell and prod the match with his or her wand.

"No, you don't have to yell or touch the match. Point at it and say the spell in a stern way, as if commanding the match to transfigure." Burnewood was walking through the class, looking at everyone on how they were doing.

Nimwe had not joined the class in its fever to do well. She was just staring at the needle, not knowing what to do. Being a manual witch was all well, but she had no clue of what to do exactly. Burnewood stopped next to her desk, bend down and said softly: "You don't know what to do, miss la Faye?"

"No, sir," she shook her hand. "I know I don't need a wand, but I have no idea how to do it and if I _can _do it."

"Have you tried to do anything?"

"No, sir."

Burnewood looked at her a little sceptical. "Let's try that first and then begin to worry. You will not exceed at once, no first year does, so you can't fail. Say the spell and do the rest on your intuition."

"Okay." Nimwe looked at the needle, stretched her hand above the match and said the spell. Immediately she felt an energetic rush through her hand. It scared her and she withdrew her hand. The match had not changed.

"What happened?" Burnewood asked. His tone was not worried, just interested.

"I felt energy in my hand," Nimwe answered astonished. "That's good, right? That was magic, right?"

Burnewood gave her a small smile. "Yes, that was good. Get used to that feeling and practice."

At the end of the lesson Nimwe's match was thinner, though still not a needle and Cassandra's match had a sharp point. They gathered their stuff and Nimwe waited for Rose to pass by.

"Rose! How are you?"

"Fine! I like Ravenclaw. It was unexpected; I mean, everyone in the family is a Gryffindor, except for Lucy, but I met a few and I am not surprised that I was sorted in Ravenclaw. How are you?" They walked slowly to the door of the classroom.

"Good. I have something to tell you. What class do you have now?"

Rose did not need her schedule to answer that. "History of Magic from professor Binns. Apparently he's a ghost."

"Okay, that's unusual." Nimwe said. She needed her schedule to make sure which subject she had. "Oh, I also have History of Magic. Good, because I really need to tell you this."

Rose looked surprised at the girl. "What is it?"

"I don't need a wand to perform magic."

Rose was speechless for a moment. Nimwe could almost hear the radars in her head searching for information that she had read about wandless magic. "That's not possible."

"It is. I'm a very rare case." They were walking through the corridor upstairs to the classroom. "There is not a lot of information, so I have to figure out a lot myself."

"Wow, Nimwe, that's so interesting! With the match, did you transfigure it?"

"Just slightly. But it was very weird. I felt this energy in my hand when I said the spell, it was so weird and so thrilling." Nimwe had a big smile on her face. They stood still behind the group of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws just before the classroom. "How was your match?"

"It was silver and pointy. Burnewood said it was a good start for a first year." Rose simply beamed at being so successful.

"Good for you!" The first years were already walking into the classroom. Rose, Albus and Nimwe found a table in the middle row and discussed Nimwe's new discovery further.

Suddenly an ancient looking, semi-transparent ghost came floating into the classroom through the blackboard, which had not been used in years it seemed. He floated down on the desk chair and without introduction he opened a notebook and began to read out of it in a monotone voice.

First Nimwe was trying to listen to him and make notes, but after ten minutes she felt so drowsy that she just heard the voice as mumbling on the background. Albus was resting his head on his hands and his green eyes looked glassy. Rose was still scribbling down notes, sometimes even nodding when she recognised a fact.

Nimwe tried to look attentive, but it was a hopeless cause and she looked around at the other students. Every one of them was looking with glassy eyes at the professor or just doodling on a piece of parchment. Cassandra saw Nimwe looking and put her hand before her mouth as if yawning. Nimwe chuckled and feigned to be sleeping, to which Cassandra laughed.

Albus, who sat next to her, took his parchment with notes, scribbled something down and shove it to Nimwe.

_Fancy a game of hangman?_

She quickly grabbed her quill and wrote back: _Yes! First word: _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __

They left the parchment between them and Albus began writing letters. _A, E, O, T, etc. _Nimwe began to draw a hangman and just before she completed the drawing, Albus guessed write: _Thrilling! Just the word you think of when you are in this class._

_Exactly, _Nimwe wrote back. The rest of the class they were playing hangman and did not hear a word of what Professor Binns told them.

After lunch, where they animatedly discussed the Transfiguration class and laughed about the History of Magic class, they had their last lesson of the day: Charms. Nimwe remembered from the Opening Feast that a small new teacher taught this. Indeed the teacher was smaller than most students and was standing on a pile of books to get a good view of the classroom in front of him.

He welcomed the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs with warmth in his voice and excitedly he began to talk about Charms. Nimwe began to look forward to the lessons, as a lot of useful spells would be taught in this subject.

After his short talk Professor Flitwick gave everyone a piece of wood and told the students to enlarge it with the Engorgement Charm. "A short flick and the spell "Engorgio" will do the trick."

Everyone began enthusiastically with the assignment and Nimwe noticed that this class was quite the opposite of Transfiguration: Burnewood insisted on a calm atmosphere and a good concentration; Flitwick on the other hand let chaos rule the classroom and encouraged people to do their best in his high voice.

Nimwe took a deep breath, gave a short flick with her right index finger and said "Engorgio". The same energy that she had felt with Transfiguration, although a little different, went through her hand and her woodblock shook a little. Again she flicked her index finger and said "Engorgio" and slightly, just slightly, the wood grew bigger.

"Ha," she said triumphantly, without really noticing it.

"You did the spell correct?" Cassandra asked on her right. She was still flicking her wand, but nothing happened.

"Just a little, but I can really do magic!" Nimwe felt so relieved.

"You already knew that, right, from Transfiguration?"

"Yeah," Nimwe paused for a moment. "But this was more my own doing." She did not know how to explain it properly. "Let's just say that I since now have confidence in my magic."

"Good for you. Now, if you don't mind, I am going to practice some more, I want my woodblock to be huge."

At the end of the lesson Nimwe's woodblock had become twice as big and also Cassandra's piece of wood had obviously grown. They were walking to the Gryffindor tower to do their homework and wait for dinner to begin. They were lost a few times, but eventually found the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Leo Fortis," Nimwe told the painting and the girls climbed through the round hole into the Common Room. Right after them were Jade and Sharada and the four took seats in the middle of the Common Room that was now beginning to fill with Gryffindor students and just a few minutes later Albus, Scorpius and Jack joined the girls.

Jack squeezed himself between Nimwe and Cassandra, although the space was limited and looked Nimwe right in the eyes. "That magic you did, you did it without a wand. What's with that?"

Immediately all attention was on Nimwe, who felt that all blood in her body went to her cheeks. "I just don't need a wand." She almost said it as if it were a question.

"That is not normal," Scorpius said. "Every witch or wizard needs a wand. That is an commonly known fact."

"I am an exception to the rule. My magical system is a little different. Instead of embracing the wand, my body rejects it."

"So now you just do magic with what? Your nose?" Jack made a joke out of it.

"No, not with my nose." Nimwe slapped Jack lightly on the arm. "With my hands. You saw it with Charms, didn't you?"

"I have never heard of such a person," Jade said, thinking hard if she were wrong.

"I am a very, very rare case." Nimwe explained. "There isn't even a term for it. McGonagall called me for the convenience a manual witch."

"A manual witch?" Jack laughed. "It's like you are a machine or something." Everyone, except Sharada, looked at him with confusion. "What?" he asked.

"What is a machine?" Jade asked.

"You don't know what a machine is? It does your work for you."

"A muggle thing," Sharada, the girl with the muggle-mother, added and everyone nodded in understanding.

Scorpius brought the subject back to Nimwe. "But you will stay at Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Nimwe said. "I will follow the same classes as you and I am going to have an extra class once a week to perfect my magic and document my improvements. That's all." She shrugged.

"Okay, I'm curious how you are going to be," Scorpius said and with that the subject was closed. Nimwe took her bag, pulled out her Transfiguration book and took out some parchment, ink and her quill. Burnewood had set them an essay about the basics of Transfiguration and she wanted to make a beginning on it. The others also began with their homework, though due to the much talking, they did not get far with it. When they had noticed that, Albus proposed to go to the Great Hall to have dinner, as it was already time for that. They all agreed, dropped their bags in the dormitories and began a new quest to the Great Hall.

Nimwe was happy to find out that the group was getting better and better at finding the way in Hogwarts and the times when they were lost, was another record for them. Jack inhaled the air in the Great Hall. "You just have to love that smell" and he led them to an open space at the Gryffindor table. As soon as they sat down, they began to plate some food.

Nimwe decided that this was a good day for potatoes, chicken and vegetables, when a familiar boy sat down next to her.

"Good evening, Nimwe," James Potter said, smiling widely. "How was your first day here at Hogwarts?"

"Hello, James. It was good, very interesting."

"Good, good," surprisingly he did not seem to be very interested in her answer. "Talking about interesting, I heard some interesting news about your group."

"Did you?" Nimwe asked, one eyebrow up. "Is that why you have delighted me with your visit?"

"Exactly." James said not at all taken back by her sarcasm. "I heard some small Hufflepuffers talking about a Gryffindor girl that did magic without a wand. Who is it?" James looked at Cassandra, Jade and Sharada who were talking with each other, as if he could see which one of them was the subject of gossip.

"I am." Nimwe said simply and she just had to enjoy James' reaction. He almost gave himself a whiplash with turning his head at once back to Nimwe. "You're kidding." Disbelief was written all over him.

"Nope, I'm not."

"You are saying that you are the girl that does _not _need a wand?"

"Yep, that is exactly what I am saying."

"Shut up." James backed away a little and looked at Nimwe as if he saw her for the first time.

Nimwe turned back to her food and pierced a piece of chicken on fork. "Fine, if that is what you want."

"You are serious?" He almost shouted it and a few heads turned to him, but James did not notice.

"James, I will say this just one time: I do not need a wand for magic." Nimwe did not look at him and began to eat her meal.

James looked at her with astonishment and then turned to his brother. "Al, tell me it isn't true."

Albus smirked. "It is. She found out just this morning. She is a very rare case."

"Merlin," James said, looking at Nimwe again. "I knew you were weird with the reading and painting and all, but this is very extreme, Nimwe."

"I am not weird." With every word she punched the boy. "If anybody is, it is you, obviously. Now, is it possible for me to eat in peace, please? Or do you have some intelligent questions to ask?"

James was silent for a moment. "How is it possible?" It seemed his curiosity had won it from the disbelief. Nimwe explained everything while the two ate and finally James seemed to have grasped the concept of Nimwe being an exception.

"You know, you are the luckiest girl in the world." Nimwe just looked at him. "You can perform magic in every situation. Dad's told me that you always have to be careful with your wand and make sure you never lose it. That's not possible with you. You will always have your hands with you."

"Merlin, you're right for once." Nimwe laughed at James' quasi-hurt expression. "So, enough about me, how was your day?"

James shrugged. "Just normal. O'Field yelled at me for making an explosion at Potions, but that's all."

"You made an explosion? What did you do?"

"Oh, I didn't agree with the book." In his brown eyes Nimwe could clearly see that he had fully enjoyed it.

"You're hopeless."

"But extremely nice," James added.

"I won't agree with you." Nimwe shook her head and then stood up. "I'm going back to the Common Room. Are you coming with or do you feel the irresistible urge to eat another pudding?"

James looked between the pudding that stood before him and Nimwe. "Hard choice. I'll come with you, you might get terribly lost without me."

"Just believe what you want, I know better." Laughing the two left the Great Hall.

James led Nimwe through passages behind tapestries and her inner compass was utterly confused.

"How do you know this?"

"Oh," James said with a light tone that had to hide something. "Just some discoveries my friends and I made."

"Aha," Nimwe said, also indicating with her voice that she did not entirely believe him. They arrived at the portrait and after giving the password they entered the Common Room, where their friends were already sitting.

"Well, Nimwe, it was a pleasure, as always, but now is the time for us to say goodbye." He made a bow and after a normal goodbye from Nimwe they separated to join their friends.

"Hey, Nimwe," Cassandra said, indicating that the girl could sit next to her. "You are already the subject of gossip, although it is more about a Gryffindor girl who does not need wand. They still don't know it is you."

"I know, James…"

"The boy you were just talking to?"

"Yes, Albus' brother." Nimwe explained. "He came to me, because he heard the rumour. He first could not believe it was me. I fear it will spread soon now."

"Well, just because they know your name, doesn't mean that they know precisely who you are," Cassandra comforted. "And if they know," she just had to add, "it will be over soon. It's not like you have done something massive."

"Oh, right, that's a comfort."

"No, it isn't." Cassandra shrugged. "Don't worry about it until there is something to worry about."

Nimwe nodded and did not talk about it for the rest of the evening.


	8. A Blossoming Rose

**I am sorry for the delay: it was just not possible for me to post it last night (my time). I hope you enjoy this chapter; it's another long one! I would appreciate reviews a lot.**

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**Chapter 8:**** A Blossoming Rose**

The following days Nimwe began to slowly get used to her unusual magic. She felt that with each different type of magic, the energy in her hand felt different. In Defence Against the Dark Arts they had not had practical magic yet, but in Charms and Transfiguration they had and Nimwe discovered that she was on the same level as everyone else. The teachers did not treat her any differently and she struggled with the same things as others: it made her feel comfortable.

She had been right about the rumour and soon it was her name that was whispered in the corridors. She had acted as if it was not about her, but somehow, on Thursday, it became generally known that the Gryffindor girl with dark brown hair and an average height, was the girl that was different. It was not hard for the students to distinguish her between the other first year girls in Gryffindor. Nimwe felt the eyes on her and heard the whispers:

"It's her, isn't it?"

"She looks quite plain to me."

"Does she think she's special?"

"I bet it isn't true. It probably is just a first year seeking attention."

When Nimwe heard this, she bit her lower lip and walked as fast as she possible could to get way. Her eyes on the other hand were not focused on the ground she was walking on: they were fixed on a point for a head, so she would keep her head held high. She did not want the students to think that the rumours and whispers concerned her.

She had become good friends with Cassandra; both had felt a friendship without really knowing each other. They had both similarities and differences, which made it easy to talk to each other, but not in a boring way. Of the pair Cassandra was the more present one: she made easily contact with others and was not afraid to voice her opinion. Nimwe was more silent, but did not back down from a discussion. Both had the same humour, which made it not difficult for them to understand each other. They were friends and it felt as if they had been for a long time.

While walking through the corridor with Cassandra, Nimwe felt grateful for having such an easy start for a friendship. While Nimwe ignored the students that were talking behind her back, Cassandra had thought of a different approach: glaring at the gossips until they shut their mouths.

After Transfiguration in which they had taken notes again and had practised turning the match again, it was time for Herbology, to be taught by professor Longbottom, together with the Slytherins.

Professor Longbottom had started the lesson by giving notes about the harmless Dancing Daisies and ended it with instructing everyone to work in pairs in order to move the flowers from their own pot to a big pot, so they were able to have a "dance party". Cassandra and Nimwe looked at each other and could not help laughing at the thought of a few white flowers in one pot, dancing on the newest music.

"You don't need your gloves," continued Longbottom, ignoring the smirks of the students. "The Daisies like to feel your hands, so they can feel your heartbeat and use it as a drumbeat. If you need extra potting soil, please come to me."

Every student grabbed a few pots and back at their desk they began to free the Daisies from their old pot. When Nimwe had taken out the soil with her hand shovel, she grabbed the Daisy and wanted to put it in the readied big pot. Her hands had just touched the flower, when the Daisy began to make wild movements, startling Nimwe, who dropped it back in the pot. She looked to her left where Cassandra was holding a gentle and swaying Dancing Daisy in her hands. Her friend had no problem in moving the flower from one pot to the other.

Nimwe looked back at her flower and decided to try it again. She was now moving faster and her hands were higher when the flower began to react by having spasms. Now when she let the flower go, she sent it flying over her desk on the grounds.

Professor Longbottom, who was just at the neighbouring desk, scooped the Dancing Daisy up and walked to Nimwe. "Miss la Faye, I do not tolerate playing with plants in my lessons. That includes throwing."

She looked back at him. "I didn't mean to drop or throw the plant, professor. It just began to move wildly as soon as I touched it and it startled me."

Professor Longbottom looked at the Dancing Daisy in his hands that was now swaying from left to right as if hearing beautiful music.

"We are talking about the same Daisy?"

"Yes, sir." Nimwe did not understand how the flower could have made such a complete change in behaviour.

The professor seemed to think for a moment. "Could you hold it for again, please? I have a suspicion."

A few students in the near distance of the desk were watching and listening to what was happening. Longbottom reached the plant out to Nimwe, who wanted to take over. However, as soon as her finger touched a leaf of the flower it began to act the same as before. At once Nimwe retreated her hand and immediately as if nothing had happened, the daisy was swaying again.

"Ah," said the professor apparently understanding something that no-one else did. "This is technically your fault: your magic upsets them."

"Oh," Nimwe said, feeling guilty and looking down at her hands as if there was a sign on them.

"Don't worry, just put your gloves on and the problem is solved."

Nimwe nodded timidly and searched through her bag to find her gloves and to avoid the stares of her classmates.

"Hey," said Cassandra gently knocking her shoulder to Nimwe's when she stood right up again. "At least now you never have to worry about dirty hands with Herbology.

Nimwe was not thinking about that; instead she was eyeing Cassandra carefully. "Cassandra, do you feel anything when we touch?"

"Nope," Cassandra answered at once. "Want to try?" She held out her hand for a handshake. Nimwe looked at it for a short moment, pulled off her right glove and looked Cassandra straight in the eye. If it really did not hurt, she would see it in her eyes. Nimwe's hand shook Cassandra's and Cassandra did not flinch, but smiled happily.

"See," she said. "Nothing wrong."

Nimwe felt relieved and turned back to the plant, putting her glove back on to do the assignment. Maybe it was just plants that were more sensitive to her touch or were there just a few plants that reacted to her like the Dancing Daisy? Nimwe was not looking forward to finding out if a lot of objects from Herbology would react badly to her. It was not something to worry about now though, so Nimwe completed successfully the assignment with Cassandra and at the end of the lesson she did not think about the complication anymore.

"Miss la Faye," professor Longbottom stopped her just before she wanted to leave the greenhouse. "Your first private lesson is tomorrow afternoon, just after lunch. Please come to the classroom where you were supposed to be welcomed by Professor Burnewood on Monday. It's the only classroom in the Entrance Hall and it is free; the perfect location."

"I'll be there," Nimwe promised and when the professor indicated that she could leave, she hurried to catch up with her fellow Gryffindors. She was just walking next to Cassandra, who had walked slowly to give Nimwe the opportunity to catch up, when a boy with the blackest and coldest eyes she had ever seen, blocked their way. His brown hair was combed neatly backwards and sideways and his arms were crossed, all giving him an arrogant aura. Behind him four other Slytherins, both boys and girls were standing in an almost perfect mimic of his posture.

"If it isn't the freak. Class did not go well for you, did it?" His voice matched his appearance, although Nimwe had the feeling that everything was too much of an act. She shook her head slightly to get this thought out of her head.

"My name is Nimwe and I am not a freak." She looked straight back at him, though his soulless eyes sent a shiver down her spine.

The boy snorted. "Your demonstration at Herbology said differently." He stepped a little closer to Nimwe, who tightened her hold on her shoulder bag, but did not move back. Cassandra next to her was glaring intensely at the boy and said: "You are Calhoun Selwyn, aren't you? How's your father doing in Azkaban?"

The black eyes shot to Cassandra's blue greyish ones. "Do not speak of my father. You know nothing."

"I know he is a convicted Death Eater," Cassandra spat and she began walking away, pulling Nimwe along with her. "Go bully your own Housemates," she added over her shoulder, clearly feeding the anger of the boy further, though now they were out of reach for some more conversation.

"Idiot," Cassandra said, now slowing down, though still angry about what had just happened. "His mother must have honoured her husband to have him turn out like this."

Nimwe looked at her friend. "How can Calhoun be the son of someone who is imprisoned?"

"Special rules, I guess," Cassandra said in thought. "The Ministry must have had some pity on his mother, I mean, her husband is sent away, her name is stained, so the community has excluded her. All in all, she was alone and a child could make her less lonely. I've seen it before. Too bad they can turn out to be nasty gits."

Nimwe frowned: it was obvious that Cassandra had met a child, who was in the same situation as Selwyn before. Cassandra did not say another word about it and the tension in her mouth and forehead made clear that this was not the time to discuss it.

The two girls entered the Great Hall and sat with their classmates that had apparently just begun eating. Jack was almost finished with his plate, that he was emptying it in no time.

"Hey, Nimwe," Albus was sitting across her and leaned forward to talk to her. "What happened at Herbology?"

Nimwe waited a moment. She was feeling hungry, so she took a bite of her shepherd pie first. "Just my magic, nothing serious. The plants don't like me without gloves."

"Inconvenient or not?" Scorpius, sitting next to Albus joined the conversation.

"As long as it happens not too much, I'm okay with it." Nimwe shrugged, not voicing her concern from before: it was possible that there was not a plant that she could touch and maybe it did not end there. However, as Nimwe had thought before, this was not the time to worry about. She would ask professor Longbottom tomorrow about it.

"Scorpius, do you know Calhoun Selwyn? He's a first year in Slytherin."

Scorpius' eyes darkened and gave him the same attitude he had worn on the day they had met. "Yes, I do. Why?"

"I'm sorry, I don't mean anything with it, it's just, his father was a Death Eater and your grandfather was one…" She paused, thinking how stupid it sounded. "Sorry, I'm saying it all wrong. I don't mean to say that you associate with ex-Death Eaters because of your grandfather. It's just that I wondered if you knew him." Nimwe looked him apologetically in the eyes, after her stammering. She did not know how to say this without insulting Scorpius.

Scorpius sighed. "Luckily you have proven already that you're nice, otherwise you would have screwed it up right here."

"Sorry," Nimwe mumbled, feeling ashamed.

"Well, I know him. My grandfather gave a 'welcome back'-party for himself and Mrs. Selwyn and her son were invited too. I didn't like him."

"Good, I don't either. He found it necessary to tell me I am a freak, because of what happened in Herbology."

Albus hissed. "Yesterday he cornered Scorpius, saying he disgraced the name of his grandfather, just by being a Gryffindor."

Scorpius gave Albus a grateful look and said to Nimwe: "What Albus forgets to mention is that Selwyn had the need to threaten him, because Albus' father is the one that defeated Voldemort and thus causing his father to go to jail. I still think it's Selwyn sr. own fault, but Junior seems to think differently."

Nimwe looked over her shoulder and saw the subject of their conversation sitting two tables away with an air of arrogance. "He's disillusioned, probably brainwashed by his mother."

"Maybe he'll come around," Albus said, though the three would have to see that with their own eyes before believing it.

Friday afternoon could not come soon enough for Nimwe. Since she had been told that she would have private lessons she had been looking out to it. When the bell rang after Transfiguration in which she had succeeded in turning several matches into needles and back, she hurried to the Great Hall and ate as quickly as possible. When she was done, she wanted to go to the classroom, however Professor Longbottom seemed in no hurry and was enjoying his lunch at the teachers table.

"Calm down," Albus laughed, resting his hand shortly on her fingers that were drumming impatiently. "He will be finished soon."

Nimwe nodded without really hearing him. Albus looked at her with amusement and than turned to Cassandra and Scorpius who were explaining Quidditch to an amazed Jack.

"You fly on brooms and there are two balls that can knock you off? Isn't that dangerous?"

"No," Cassandra said laughing. "You don't die of it. Perhaps some broken bones, but they are repaired in a second."

"Just broken bones?" Jack almost choked on his pumpkin juice. "Your sport is bloody dangerous!"

"Oh, come on," Jade said having apparently listened to the conversation. "There are plenty of muggle sports in which you can break something."

"But we don't fly on brooms!"

"But the brooms make it exciting," Scorpius exclaimed as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "You really need to see it to understand. I hope the first game is soon." He gazed longingly into the distance.

"Yeah, me too," Cassandra sighed.

Nimwe, whose mind had been distracted for a moment, saw Professor Longbottom rise from his chair and making his way out of the Hall. "Yes." She cheered softly and she got off the bench. "I'll see you later, you'll be in the Common Room?" She asked no-one in particular and Cassandra answered, after looking at the ceiling. "I think we might be outside if the weather is fine. Just look for us, okay?"

"Good luck!" Albus added looking through his round glasses at the girl who was almost jumping upside down from excitement. "Now go, you can't let Neville wait any longer."

"Bye!" and Nimwe walked with her bag over her shoulder out of the Great Hall to the classroom where she was supposed to meet Professor Longbottom.

The door was open and when she looked inside she saw the professor sitting behind his desk with his back to her. She knocked on the door and he turned around. "Come in and close the door behind you, please," he said with a pleasant smile.

Nimwe did as been told and sat down behind the table on the first row, facing Longbottom, who was looking at her.

"So, miss la Faye, how was your first week at Hogwarts?"

"It was great," she answered sincerely. "Quite overwhelming, especially with my magic, but it was nice."

"You have made friends, I hope?"

"Yes, sir. I like my housemates, they are very nice and I already knew Albus of course, so it was very easy for me."

"Good, good. How were your lessons?"

"Interesting, sir, although I was surprised by the Dancing Daisy yesterday."

"Understandable." Longbottom nodded. "Have other curious things happened, or was that it?"

Nimwe thought for a moment. "No, actually not. I was first afraid of doing magic, because I did not know how to, but professor Burnewood told me to just try and it worked. Not that I could do perfect magic instantly, actually I am on the same level as most students, but it went well, so that was good."

"Good," the professor said, taking his quill and dipping it in ink. "Please tell me how it feels to do magic. I am going to write it down for the documentation of your progress, okay?"

Nimwe nodded. "It feels like there is this energy in my body and it flows to my hands when I say a spell." She had taken her hands out of her lap and was now also talking with her hands. "The feeling of the energy differs according to what magic I use, I think. Well, that is, I only did some magic in Transfiguration and Charms and I think the energies of the magic feel different. We have had only theory for Defence of the Dark Arts, so I can't say much about that."

Professor Longbottom was busy writing and nodded in understanding. He finished not long after Nimwe had. "This energy," he asked, "is it unpleasant or does it feel natural?"

"The first few times it scared me a little, but eventually it began to feel natural. I believe that it is essential for me to make a spell work. When you use a wand, do you feel it?"

"Well, sometimes, not often though. I felt energy when I bought my wand, so I am thinking of that energy that you just described is your magic."

"I don't know, sir, how that feels. It felt very unpleasant for me to hold a wand."

"Yes, Mr Ollivander wrote that to us. You told me that you haven't used a spell for Defence Against the Dark Arts yet. I want to test your theory on your feelings about your energy, if you don't mind. I will teach you the Disarming spell. Don't expect to do it right at once, it's mostly about the feeling, okay?"

"Yes, sir," and Nimwe stood up as the professor did. He magicked a few desks out of the way and stood opposite Nimwe.

"This is a very useful spell as it does not harm your opponent, but it makes him defenceless. You have to say _Expelliarmus _and aim well at your opponent, me in this case. When with a wand you just have to point, no complicated movements need to be done. I think it also applies to you. Now, try it."

Nimwe nodded. She took a deep breath, stretched out her right hand and focused on Longbottom's wand. "Expelliarmus." Just like every other time energy flowed through her body to her hands, though she felt this energy was different. A red beam came out of her hand and the professor's wand shook for a moment, but did not fly out of his hand.

"Good, that was a beginning of the spell. Did you feel the energy?"

"Yes and it was different. It felt more aggressive than with Charms and Transfiguration."

"It makes sense," Longbottom said. "How would you describe your energy with Charms and with Transfiguration?"

"Charms is the most gentle one, the easiest one to feel and the energy with Transfiguration feels very concentrated, specific for that use of the spell."

Longbottom took his quill again and scribbled down some more notes. He stood right again. "Let's practice some more. Next lesson I will bring some books and we will try to find out some more about the history of manual magic. We will do this in the Headmistress's office, because Professor Dumbledore has expressed interest in your lessons and maybe other headmasters know something when we discuss it. Well, don't worry about it, let's practice some more and then I am going to send you away to enjoy your afternoon."

They spent a half hour on practicing in which Nimwe eventually succeeded in Disarming the professor, though still in a sloppy way and without him moving, but Longbottom praised her and made the appointment for the next lesson: same day, same time, just different office.

Nimwe left the office happily and walked through the great oak doors. As soon as she stood outside, she felt the sun heating her face and it contributed to her happiness. She looked around to see if she could spot her friends. She saw several groups of students scattered over the grass and she decided to walk past them in the direction of the lake to see if she recognised someone.

Near the lake she came across her six fellow Gryffindors and she sat down between Scorpius and Sharada. All had their homework for Charms on their laps, but no-one was nearly finished with it.

"Hey, Nimwe," Scorpius said as soon as she touched the ground. "How was your lesson?"

"It went well. He asked about my week and I learned the Disarming spell, just so I could feel how it feels to do a counter-curse."

Scorpius looked surprised. "Feel? What do you mean?"

"Oh, it's just that I feel energy in my hand when I do some magic, no big deal."

"Ah," he said. "So did you learn more or was that it?"

"Nope, next week I hope to learn about manual wizards and witches in history, so that will be interesting."

"Cool. And there is no assignment?"

"No, he didn't tell me."

"Well, I think everyone wants such lessons. Have you already started on your essay about the Charms?"

Nimwe sighed. "No, I think I will do it now." She searched through her back and laid before her on the grass her Charms book, her quill, ink and parchment. She unscrewed her inkpot, dipped her quill in it and wrote on the parchment: _The uses of Charms_. She sighed and opened her book on the page of the first chapter that was an introduction to Charms and began writing.

The sun felt pleasant and the work was quickly done with the discussions she had with her friends about the essay. They gave each other ideas and helped the other when he or she was stuck with writing. It was a good ending of the first school week.

On Saturday morning during breakfast came the owl post, just like every day during breakfast. Nimwe had looked up expectantly every morning, waiting for her owl to drop a letter from Charlie. She had written him Tuesday afternoon, although they had seen each other that morning. She had described how she thought how her magic worked and how she had made friends with Cassandra and the other Gryffindors. She wanted to see his familiar writing, just to know that he was doing okay in Romania.

Her wish had been heard, because right before her plate Gwyndion, her brown white-spotted owl, landed with a letter on her leg. Nimwe immediately dropped her knife and fork on her plate, not caring that they were now covered in peanut butter, and freed the owl of the envelope.

"Hey Gwyn," she said to the owl, caressing her feathers. "Here take some toast." The owl took it happily and it gave Nimwe the chance to rip open the envelope and read the letter.

_Dear Nimwe,_

_I'm glad everything is going well for you. I knew you would find your magic, just like you found your gift for painting. How was your private lesson this Friday? Keep good track on everything, it will benefit you!_

_I am doing fine. The journey was easy and it was good to see the dragons again. It's like I never left, it feels so natural here._

_Please say hi to my nieces and nephews for me and take care!_

_Love Charlie_

Nimwe smiled and read the letter again, although there was not much information in it. It was just good to hear from her godfather; to hear he was safe and sound in Romania combining his work and his passion.

"Uncle Charlie?" Albus guessed from her left.

"Yes, he is doing well in Romania." Her smile could not be wider. "He says 'Hi' to you."

Albus smiled. "Before you came to live at the Burrow I rarely saw Uncle Charlie, you know, because he was living in Romania. I remember asking Dad about it when I was five or so. He said that Charlie followed his passion, even if it meant living in another country and not marrying. The whole family thought that Charlie would just stay there, being on his own for the rest of his life. And than suddenly you came and he moved back and he did not regret it for a moment, honestly. It was entirely unexpected, but I think Charlie has been a good surrogate father for you."

Nimwe nodded and looked at Charlie's autograph. "Yeah, I'm glad I came to live with him and Arthur and Molly." Someone who fell down on the bench on her right interrupted Nimwe's musings. Jack had finally woken up and come downstairs for breakfast.

"Good morning!" he said brightly without noticing that he had just interrupted a quite serious conversation.

"Good morning, Jack. Slept well?"

"Wonderfully!" He did not look at her: all his concentration was on making some sandwiches with cheese, ham and peanut butter, though not all on the same sandwich. "I just have to love these beds, they are just gifts send by heaven, I swear."

Nimwe chuckled. "They do sleep quite well. So, what are you planning for today?"

Jack shrugged, because his mouth was too full to answer.

Albus looked up at the ceiling of the Great Hall. The sky was bright and the sun was shining. "I think I will go outside. I have finished most of the homework, so I don't have to worry about that." He looked at the Ravenclaw table, where Rose was sitting next to a girl with black hair and a brown haired boy with glasses. "I'm going to ask Rose if she wants to join, I haven't properly spoken to her in ages." He wanted to get up, but decided as there was still some food on his plate, he should stay seated. He looked at Gwyndion who was stealing toast from her owner. "Do you mind if I borrow Gwyndion for a second?"

Nimwe looked at him with a surprised frown, but said it was okay.

"Thank you. Do you have some parchment and a quill and such?"

Nimwe was more confused now, but gave him the envelope and Scorpius on the other side of Albus had a quill and ink with him.

Albus scribbled a short note on the envelope, gave it to Gwyndion and said: "Fly to Rose, she is in the Hall." The owl looked at him for a second, as if he was mad and then flew away to land two tables further.

"You just did not send my owl to your cousin who is just a few tables away?"

He just smiled guiltily. "It's the fastest way."

"Opposed to what? Walking to her and asking her personally? Lazy git." Nimwe smacked Albus, just as Gwyndion came flying back with Rose's response. Albus smiled when he saw that had Rose said yes and Nimwe, who was looking at the Ravenclaw table, saw that the red haired girl was looking at her with a look of desperation. Nimwe just shrugged and shook her head, indicating that she did not understand Albus either.

She finished her toast, sent Gwyndion back to the Owlery and stood up from the Gryffindor table.

Albus, still busy with his second serving of breakfast, looked at her. "What are your plans for today?"

Nimwe looked thoughtfully. "I don't know. I have this urge to paint, so that is what I will do. The weather is beautiful today, so I am going outside."

"Good, I'll see you later!" Albus greeted her goodbye and turned to Scorpius to talk more. Nimwe walked to the Gryffindor tower and in the first year girls' dormitory she walked straight to her trunk and opened it. She took a medium sized canvas, her easel, which had shrunk to fit in the trunk, her brushes, an old tea towel and her table with paint. She put the small things in her bag and with the bag over her shoulder and the mix table and canvas in her hand, she walked the same route back, though now she ended up outside.

She looked around: she wanted a bright, but secluded spot to put everything down and start painting. She walked around the castle and found a place where she had a great view on the lake, but it was not easy to see her. She took the small easel out of her bag and put it on the ground, where it grew to fit her exact size. She put up the table next to it, put the canvas on the easel and put the brushes on the table. Lastly she took a cup out of her bag, put there had to be water in it. She considered going back to the Great Hall, but then it was possible that something happened to her equipment. She looked forward and almost smacked herself for not seeing the obvious. She walked to the lake, filled the cup with water and walked back, putting the cup on her table.

She took deep breaths and blew them out again, letting calmness wash over her and let inspiration take her over. After a few moments of total serenity she picked up a brush and began to paint.

She sometimes stopped for a moment when it was time for another brush or just to take a deep breath and look at the beautiful lake before her. She did not notice students filling the grounds to just sit in the grass or got to the Quidditch pitch for some practice. She did not notice the sun going from one place in the sky to another and the few clouds that drifted by. The songs of the birds and the occasional splash in the lake she did not hear and she did not feel the wind caressing her face. It was just her, the brush, the paint and the canvas.

With the smallest brush she completed her new painting and with a great feeling of contentment she took a step back and took a good look at her painting. A big and strong tree full of green leaves was standing at the side of a blue and sparkling lake. On a thick branch sat a girl with thick dark brown hair, a light skin and Nimwe knew she had bright blue eyes, although she was painted from the side. The girl was looking lovingly at a white rose in her hand, which just started to bloom, though the stem was cut off. Her hands were surrounded by a soft glow of red, which did not affect the rose. The sky was blue and a small bird with a forked tail and straight wings, a swift, flew towards the girl.

Footsteps were muffled by the grass, but still Nimwe could hear them quite clearly now that she was not painting anymore. Her head snapped up and her eyes met the green ones that belonged to Albus Potter. Rose, who closed the distance between her and Nimwe quickly and hugged her, closely followed him.

"Hey Al, Rose," Nimwe said and she began to clean her brushes with water and the tea towel. "How are you?"

"Fine!" Rose said.

"You finished painting?" Albus asked and he stood next to her to get a good look at the painting.

Nimwe did not look at him for his reaction; instead she looked at her brushes trying to hide her blush. "Yes, just a few minutes ago."

"Nimwe, this is just another beautiful piece you made." Rose had joined her cousin in looking at the painting and sincerity was clearly heard.

"It's incredible. It makes me feel so calm inside." Albus added and now he looked at Nimwe. "I think this is the first time you painted only yourself in the painting."

Rose nodded. "I think you converted your feelings and your situation to the canvas wonderfully. The rose has already started to bloom, nice."

Nimwe smiled humbly. "Thank you. I needed it to get it out. So, Rose, how are you?" She turned her attention to her friend, still cleaning her brushes carefully.

"Oh, fine, I made friends with some Ravenclawers, mostly with Caroline Emerald and Padric Branagh, you will meet them another time. Caroline is a muggleborn, so she asks about everything and it is refreshing to look at our world from another point of view; it's very interesting."

Nimwe laughed. "Good, I can see you've found your place there."

"Oh, yes, definitely. I was first surprised, I mean, Mum, Dad, Grandpa and Grandma were all in Gryffindor, but Mum assured me that it is all fine and that the Sorting Hat was doubting between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw when he sorted her. Luckily for me she was put in Gryffindor, I mean, I don't know if Mum and Dad would have fallen in love with each other if they had not been best friends first. But I feel at home in Ravenclaw."

"I am very glad for you." Nimwe said. "Do you mind if I bring my painting to the tower? I will come back, I promise." Her stomach rumbled. "After I've eaten something. What's the time?"

"You have been painting for a few hours, so you'll have a late lunch. We were just going to get you, because we didn't want you to starve." Rose laughed, obviously knowing how Nimwe could be when painting or reading. "Let's meet in the Great Hall, okay?"

Nimwe nodded and Albus and Rose walked back to where they had come from. Nimwe lay the painting in the grass, let the easel shrink again and put everything but the canvas and the table in her bag. She put the strap on her shoulder, grabbed the table and canvas and walked around the castle to the great oak doors that stood open.

It was not a pleasant walk: she had to climb several stairs and be careful that the canvas did not touch anything, because the paint could be smeared and it would ruin her painting.

"Fortis Leo," she told the Fat Lady and the portrait swung aside, revealing the round entrance of the Gryffindor Common Room. Nimwe was now facing a problem: it would be difficult to go through the hole and keeping her painting unharmed. She was still debating on how to solve this problem when someone tapped her on her shoulder. She jumped slightly as she had not heard the approaching footsteps. Turning around she saw that James had scared him. Behind him were Fred and their friends Bran and Ryan standing.

"Need some help?" James asked after he saw the stuff in Nimwe's hand.

"Please, yes. I made a painting, but I am afraid I can't enter the Common Room without harming it," Nimwe said relieved.

"Well, give me the painting. I will give it to you when you are through the hole, okay?"

Nimwe nodded and gave James the painting. He immediately turned it with the right side up and looked at it intently. Fred, Bran and Ryan looked over his shoulder and all eyes were wide with astonishment.

She was now in the Common Room and Nimwe looked shyly at the boys. "Can I have my painting back?"

The heads all snapped up, as if they had just broken out of a spell. "Yes, sure," James said and he gave her the painting. Nimwe turned around to walk to the dormitory, but James' hand on her shoulder stopped her. The Marauders part II climbed through the entrance and all stood before Nimwe.

Bran was the first one to open his mouth. His voice was full of amazement when he said: "If you painted that, you can paint beautifully."

Nimwe looked him shortly in the eye and looked down to her feet. "Thank you."

Fred grinned. "You know that if you need some handsome models, that we are always available. Except James, because he would just ruin the painting."

It earned him a punch of the black haired boy. "Don't listen to him. I think you don't need any models. You can paint just fine like this."

Nimwe smiled at him thankfully. "Well, I promised Al and Rose to meet them in the Great Hall for lunch, so if you don't mind…?" She turned half away to indicate that she should be going.

"Oh," Bran's smile faltered for a moment. "No, don't let us hold you up."

"Good. Oh and Fred and James, Uncle Charlie says hi."

"Great," said Fred.

"Please say hi back to him from us," added James.

"I will," Nimwe promised. "Well, bye, I'll see you later, maybe?" She did not wait for an answer and hurried to her dormitory, where she put the painting with the back against the wall. She washed her hands properly and went down again with a stomach that screamed to be filled after a satisfying morning.


	9. The Daily Prophet

**Chapter 9! This one is on time. Enjoy it!**

**Chapter 9:**** The Daily Prophet**

The month passed even faster than the first week in Nimwe's mind: she became used to the moving stairways and hidden passages, she learned eagerly in the lessons and had fun with her new friends.

Nimwe worked hard in Potions, where Professor O'Field only tolerated hard working students: if something went wrong it could have disastrous consequences. Potion making required a lot of concentration and you had to follow the guidelines very strictly. Nimwe tried her best, but she felt that this would not be her best subject, unlike with some students, such as Scorpius and Rose. The latter did not surprise Nimwe, she was obviously the daughter of Hermione Granger, one of the smartest witches in her generation. Scorpius turned out to be a hardworking and intelligent boy, slightly pushed by his father to do well. He was not like Rose who seemed to be able to read something and remember it forever, but he was intelligent and driven to do well at school. He was a little the opposite of Jack, who was interested in every thing in the wizardry world, but had having a good time on top of his list. He postponed his homework to the last minute and often asked Scorpius for his notes, because he had not paid attention in class.

Albus was the more silent type and did his best in class, though sometimes he just could not be bothered with it. He had begun teaching wizard chess to Jack who was fascinated by the moving pawns. He was quite good at, having had lessons of his Uncle Ron, who had played with giant chess pieces in his first year. It was one of Ron's favourite stories to tell when his children asked about his time at Hogwarts.

Cassandra was the student that was so full of energy that she sometimes found it hard to sit still, especially when she was supposed to work on an assignment in the library where Madame Pince demanded complete silence. Cassandra was also Nimwe's source to laughter: in the most unexpected moments she would just do or say something and Nimwe had to repress her urge to laugh, because it was mostly during class and in the library.

All classes Nimwe attended, with the exception of History of Magic, were interesting and demanded quite something of the students. In Herbology Professor Longbottom assigned essays about the plants they were working with at the moment. Now Nimwe was working with gloves on, everything went well and she could enjoy the lessons. The plants that were discussed in the first year were easy and funny plants so it was always a nice chaos in class. Nimwe compared it to Charms, given by the small and squeaky Professor Flitwick who could get excited when someone had performed a spell correctly. It did not happen often, but sometimes he would fall off his pile of books, every time followed by a muffled "I'm okay!". Professor Flitwick let the students free in how they learned the spell, as long as they succeeded in it when he wanted it after two lessons. Charms was the ideal lesson to talk to each other and have a laugh.

Transfiguration was more like Potions: complete concentration was required and Professor Burnewood demanded persistence and results. He was not a mean teacher, but he wanted a lot of his students and did not use a sweet voice to get the results he wanted. Nimwe respected him: he was always patient and was always ready to help a student when he or she was struggling with the spell. This happened sometimes to Nimwe when she had to do something differently than the others and she was clueless about how to do it right. The professor would suggest things and encourage her to do it on intuition to see what the right way was.

That was the main thing Nimwe was struggling with: discovering how her branch of magic worked. Mostly she had to copy what the normal witch had to do, but sometimes she had to change something in the movement to get the same result as with a wand. Luckily the same incantation for each spell worked: Nimwe did not know how she could do any magic that did not work with the normal spell.

Each week Nimwe met Professor Longbottom and they would talk through the week and work on some spells. The second lesson had been about the history of manual magic, but that proved to be a short lesson. Nimwe had learned that she had probably inherited her magical system from her mother: her father had never shown wandless magic and Ollivander had confirmed that finding Conor la Faye a wand had been fairly easy.

There were some examples in history books of witches and wizards like Nimwe, but Professor Longbottom had said that they could not be sure of it: it could have been luck or very strong magic. They could not trace a family tree, as Nimwe's father had never told her the last name of her mother Maeve. They had never married and there were no documents that linked Conor to a witch named Maeve. Nimwe regretted that she had never asked her father about her mother and had apologised to Longbottom, but he had waved her apology away. "This will make everything more interesting. Don't worry. How you perform your magic is up to you. We don't need history to find that out, it would just make it easier."

Defence Against the Dark Arts had not dealt with magic yet. Professor Aurora Clearwater discussed many dangerous creatures and how to avoid them and keep them away. There were yet no spells involved, which Nimwe regretted. The only defence spell she knew was _Expelliarmu,s _which she had now perfected in the third private lesson with Professor Longbottom. It felt quite comfortable that when in trouble, she could at least Disarm her opponent, although if she thought rationally she knew that her opponent would probably know more handier spells.

It was after a month that a note was hung up on the announcement board in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"At last! I am going to fly!" Jack yelled, earning deadly glares from some studying students. He made a weird dance before joining Nimwe, Cassandra, Albus and Scorpius again. "This week on Friday we have our first flying lesson. I am so excited."

"Gosh, you hardly show," Nimwe said sarcastically when Jack was still jumping up and down and dancing around.

Jack was not the only one looking forward to the flying lesson. Every first year liked the opportunity to go out and soar through the sky like they used to do at home, or in the case of the muggleborns: learning to fly on a broomsticks. It was something they had read stories about and had been told that it was just a made-up story.

It was Friday afternoon and after a lovely lunch the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins were walking to the Quidditch field where Madam Hooch was waiting for them. It was the beginning of October and the wind was cold, though the sun was still shining. This was the first Friday without a lesson with Professor Longbottom. They had agreed to skip one lesson, as the flying lessons would be held every other week for two months. The pair could afford to skip some lessons, especially now Nimwe's education was just starting and mostly consisted of theory.

When they arrived on the Quidditch field the Slytherins were already present, standing next to a row of brooms.

"Please choose a place next to a non-taken broom," ordered Madam Hooch, not wasting any breath on introductions. "The first time we fly we will fly just a few feet above the ground, stay there for a minute and land again. I don't care if you already know how to fly: I don't want anyone flying off or you'll leave Hogwarts faster than you can say Quidditch. Understood? Good." She had not even waited for an answer and Cassandra raised shortly her left eyebrow to Nimwe, who just shrugged, not getting the lady either.

"First hold your hand above the broom and say: "Up!"

"Up!" everyone shouted. Some had succeeded in receiving the broomstick in their hand, others like Nimwe and Jack were less successful: Jack's lifted a tiny bit in the air before falling back on the ground and Nimwe's just quivered a little. She was not surprised. At the Burrow she had never flown a lot. She was not very good at Quidditch and when the Weasley grandchildren would visit the Burrow and play Quidditch she did not join, but watch from the sideline with Hugo, Lily and Roxanne who were viewed as too young to play the game. The little ones always protested a lot.

"If you did not succeed the first time, try again. Try until you have managed to get the broomstick in your hand, without picking it up, sir on the right end." Madam Hooch did not want any protests and the students who had failed, tried hastily again. After three attempts Nimwe had finally summoned the broomstick properly. Some were so insecure that they needed more than five tries, others like Jack who were inexperienced, but excited managed in two tries.

"Good, now everyone has his or her broom, I want you to mount it and take off lightly when I blow my whistle. Rise a few feet and come down again. Understood? Good." Madam Hooch waited a few seconds and blew her whistle.

Nimwe kicked off like she had learned from Charlie, rose a few feet and came down again. Everyone had a big smile on his or her face: flying, even though it was just a few feet felt great. Although, now Nimwe looked better it was possible that Sharada was grimacing, not out of joy, and a small mousy looking Slytherin boy dropped his broomstick immediately after landing. Jack was his opposite: he was grinning widely and waited eagerly for the next blow on the whistle so he could fly off again.

After a few take-offs and coming back again after a few seconds Madam Hooch gave permission those willing to fly for a few minutes freely, although they were not allowed to go higher than the tribune in the Quidditch pitch.

Albus and Scorpius began racing each other and Jack tried to keep up with them, though he was still a little careful in his speed. The three boys could fly well, though neither of them seemed to be flying perfectly. Jade and Sharada were flying low and used this time to chat instead of doing crazy things with their broomsticks.

In the Slytherin was also Calhoun Selwyn, the boy that had been insulting Nimwe on several occasions and she heard and saw that he had absolutely not made friends with Scorpius and Albus. He had a herd of followers, mostly consisting of Zachary Gyleth: a massive boy with long brown hair that covered his eyes, Allard Frye, a skinny boy that took every opportunity to laugh at someone, Cecelia Nuvelle, a blonde girl who kept her nose constantly in the air and Shirlyn Parroty, also blonde who looked at everyone as if they were talking nonsense, except for Selwyn and Nuvelle.

Nimwe had seen that Selwyn had ordered the broomstick quite easily: he had been on a broomstick more often. The little uncoordinated Gyleth had been a source of laughter for Nimwe and Cassandra when they saw that he slid off the broom as soon as he kicked off. They had muffled their giggles with their hands, they did not expect Madam Hooch to appreciate this behaviour.

Albus and Scorpius were now on full speed and flew passed Selwyn, missing him by an inch. Nimwe thought it was fully intentional as she saw the boys grinning and giving each other a high five. Selwyn did not see it, as he had been so surprised by Albus and Scorpius that he had pulled the broomstick as fast as possible and was now having problems staying on the broom. Seeing his ridiculous attempts to stay on the broom Nimwe began to laugh hard: she could not keep it in anymore.

Selwyn's cheeks coloured red instantly and he steered the broomstick to the ground as good as possible in his uncomfortable position (mostly on the side of the broom, instead on top). His feet had just touched the ground, when Madam Hooch blew her whistle for the last time indicating that the flying lesson was over. "Everybody down, now! Please bring your brooms to me."

Soon there was a pile of broomsticks right before her feet.

Nimwe began to walk back to the castle with Cassandra, Albus and Scorpius. They just wanted to discuss their flying lesson when an ice-cold voice stopped them.

"Freak. I did not appreciate you laughing at me."

Nimwe turned around, a little startled about how close Selwyn and his posse was. "Well, I appreciated your attempt to humour me," she smiled without humour. She was cautious and she felt her friends next to her tense too.

"I am not joking, freak," he stepped a little closer. "Nobody laughs about me, understood?"

"You can't tell me what to do, you have your _friends" _she made quotation marks in the air, stressing her sarcasm, "for that, don't you?" She looked shortly at the four Slytherins behind him, but focused her attention back on Selwyn again. She had become more used to the cold black eyes, though it was still not pleasant to look into them.

"You should have more respect for me." His eyes narrowed. "You have no idea what I can do."

"Is that a threat, Selwyn?" Scorpius said from Nimwe's right side not backing down from Selwyn's glare directed to him.

"Just stating a fact. So la Faye, I'll say this once more for the last time. Don't mock me, don't laugh at me, have some sense and now what is good for you."

"I can do what I want, Selwyn." Nimwe looked back at him, indicating with her eyes that she did not fear him one bit. "Can we now walk on or do you have something else idiotic to say?"

"You will regret saying that. I warned you." With those words he moved passed Nimwe, bumping her shoulder with his group of Slytherins behind him.

"Git," Cassandra hissed.

Nimwe looked at the boy that was putting more and more distance between them. "He's got quite some talk, doesn't he?"

Albus looked a bit worried. "I don't know if it was just talk. He was quite serious."

Nimwe shrugged. "Well, we'll just have to see, don't we? Maybe he'll bump into me again."

"Oh, that would be extremely fearful," Cassandra said and the four of them laughed, walking again to the Gryffindor Tower.

The Great Hall was always less busy on a Saturday morning, because students could get out of bed when they wanted. Nimwe went downstairs at nine o'clock together with Cassandra, who was still a little sleepy. The homework had increased a lot since they started school and both had scheduled a homework-day for today.

They entered the Great Hall and walked to the Gryffindor table. Nimwe could not help noticing that she got a lot of stares from some students, but she shook her head: she should not act so paranoid. Before she could sit down properly, Victoire, the eldest Weasley grandchild called her. She looked beautiful as ever with her long blonde hair and slender posture.

"Nimwe! Have you seen the Daily Prophet yet?"

Nimwe looked confused at her. "No, I haven't. I have no subscription. Why?"

"Sit down, you have to see this." Victoire pushed Nimwe on the bench and gave her the newspaper. She pointed to a headline on the front page. Cassandra looked over Nimwe's shoulder to read with her.

_NEW THREAT INSIDE HOGWARTS?_

_September 1 was the beginning of another school year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and no problems were reported._

_The Daily Prophet however received yesterday a letter from a concerned parent of a Hogwarts student, informing us that her son had written about a girl who does not use a wand for magic and how she worries about this unknown magic. Nimwe la Faye, 11, Gryffindor, is the student that does wandless magic, magic that only happens to strong wizards in rare occasions._

_Our Daily Prophet reporter could not reach Mr. Ollivander, the famous British wandmaker, for an explanation, so he asked Greg Babbleston, 34, a historian, if this has ever occurred before and what we can expect of it._

"_I have never heard of a witch or wizard that was totally capable of doing magic without a wand. I would not trust her until proving harmless."_

_Harpyna Selwyn, 55, mother of a Hogwarts student was the one that informed the Daily Prophet of this curious case. It was her son that wrote to her about the different student. She says: "My son expressed fear of the girl and I can not help being concerned about his well-being and of the other students. We know You-Know-Who was capable of extraordinary magic and I am afraid that this magic could be Dark Magic like his."_

_Headmistress Minerva McGonagall only stated that La Faye was not harmful and her magic was not to be feared. She did not want to elaborate. More information on page 5._

Nimwe lowered the newspaper and looked shocked at Victoire who had taken a seat next to her. She just wanted to ask something, when she noticed the many owls that were fighting for her attention. They had all arrived in the time it had taken her to read the article. Nimwe reached carefully out to the biggest owl, which took off as soon as the envelope was taken off its leg. Victoire and Cassandra helped her and Albus, who just came into Great Hall, watched them with wide eyes.

"What is this?"

"Probably reactions on this article," Cassandra gave Albus the newspaper and while he read, Nimwe began to open the first envelope.

_Go away! You are dangerous and we can't use anyone like you!_

She dropped the envelope and looked at Victoire, who had also opened an envelope. "This woman says she does not want you at Hogwarts near her suns."

"This one had the same message," Nimwe said and Cassandra nodded, indicating that the one she had opened was not different.

Nimwe took another envelope, opened it and immediately her eyes began to prick. It felt as if she was cutting onion, only twice as strong. "Ouch!" She dropped it quickly and closed her eyes, covering them with her hands to keep the pain as low as possible.

Her friends looked worried at her; she felt the stares. "Don't open the rest; the next one could have a worse curse." She felt the tears behind her eyes, but she took deep breaths to keep them in.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and a familiar voice whispered in her ear. "Nimwe," said Professor Longbottom, "come with me, I'll take you to the hospital wing."

She nodded and slowly opened her eyes, blinking fast to keep her eyes wet in order to keep the pain away. She did not succeed, but she was out of the Great Hall fast. Longbottom steered her quickly to the fourth floor and pushed her on a bed. Nimwe closed her eyes again and heard the nurse of the hospital wing come to them.

"Madam Pomfrey, Nimwe here needs your eye drops. She received an envelope with some Dragon Onion juice."

"I will be back in a moment," Madam Pomfrey said in a stern voice that reminded Nimwe of Professor McGonagall.

"Professor, am I dangerous?" Nimwe kept her eyes closed with her head bent, but she pricked her ears on. She feared his answer, especially after the reactions in and after the article.

She felt the mattress of the bed lower a bit as the Professor sat down next to her. "Nimwe, you are not dangerous." His voice was soft, but confident. "People fear what they do not know, that's why the Daily Prophet has labelled you as dangerous. If Professor McGonagall had suspected that you would jeopardise the school's safety, she had not accepted you to Hogwarts."

Nimwe nodded, still not entirely convinced. The doubt filled her mind. She did not know anything about her magic, except that it was a not known magic. Some great wizards were able to do some magic wandless, but that happened rarely. She understood the reaction of the readers of the Daily Prophet: she would be worried too if she read about a witch that had a different magic.

Madam Pomfrey came back and directed Nimwe to lie back. "Open your eyes, this will be over in a second. Irresponsible people," she muttered and it was clear that the nurse did not direct it to the girl or the professor. She let a few drops of a transparent fluid fall into her eyes and immediately the painful prickling in her eyes faded. She blinked a few times rapidly and sat back up when her eyes were painless again.

"Thank you, Madam."

"It's all right." She walked away again, to what Nimwe assumed was her office.

"Come, I'll bring you back to the Great Hall, you have not eaten yet." Nimwe walked silently with Longbottom back to the Great Hall, which was now fuller than when she had left it. Cassandra and Albus were eating, Victoire had gone back to her seat with her friends and Scorpius, Jack, Jade and Sharada had now joined the first two. Nimwe sat down next to Cassandra and began pouring milk and cereal in her bowl without a word. The envelopes were still laying on the table, though the pile seemed to have increased in the ten to fifteen minutes she had been gone.

"Nimwe, are you okay?" Albus asked. Nimwe only nodded, not looking at any of her friends. The ones that had joined breakfast later were obviously informed of what had happened: Nimwe saw the newspaper laying next to Scorpius plate and the fact that they did not ask for explanation, said enough for her.

"It was that Selwyn who has started this." Cassandra said with venom in her voice, glaring hard at the Slytherin table where the culprit was laughing about something with Shyrlin Parroty. "He does not seem to be bothered to be with you in the same area at the moment."

"He said he would do something yesterday," Scorpius reminded them.

"Scorpius, this is just low. Accusing Nimwe of being someone she isn't. She is not dangerous." Cassandra defended her friend immediately and it earned her a small smile of Nimwe, though she was still not convinced of it.

Scorpius looked around. "I have the feeling that the other students are doubting that." It was true that a lot of students were talking behind their hands stealing glances at Nimwe, who bent more over to hide her face.

"Guys, have you seen the paper? Make sure Nimwe doesn't…" James' voice died away when he had reached the first year Gryffindors and recognised the heap of dark brown hair as Nimwe. Fred was standing next to him, both looking equally worried. "You have seen it already?"  
"Yes and thank you for considering me too weak to read the article or even knowing about it," Nimwe snapped. She covered her mouth, shocking everyone and herself with her reaction. "I'm sorry, James, I did not mean to say that."

James had looked slightly hurt, but by seeing the sadness in her blue eyes, his face softened. "Don't worry, I get it."

"Nimwe, you are not dangerous, are you?" Fred felt the need to ask, with some sparkle in his eyes.

"Git, of course she isn't," Rose had joined the family meeting and now smacked her cousin on his arm. "Don't take it personally, Nimwe. Ignore it and don't give anyone a reason to mistrust you. It will all be fine."

Albus nodded fervently. "We know you. We trust you and the professors trust you."

Nimwe felt warmth flooding her heart when she saw the familiar and kind faces of her friends. She wanted to thank them, when a tiny hyperactive owl began to fly around her head. She looked with surprise at the beast and tried to wave it away, but James snatched it out of the air.

"It's Pig!" Rose said happily.

"But why would Uncle Ron write to Nimwe?" Fred asked confused.

"Idiot," Rose smacked him again. "Why are we gathered here?" Fred made a small O with his mouth in understanding.

"Here," James said, thrusting the letter that Pigwidgeon, the Dwarf Owl Ron owned, had carried with him, into Nimwe's hand. She opened it hastily and read out loud.

"_Nimwe,_

_If you haven't: read the Daily Prophet and don't believe it. _

_If you have: don't worry, the Daily Prophet has been wrong before. It said I was dangerous in my Hogwarts years and everyone knows now they were wrong._

_So, just ignore it and keep studying. Neville will keep helping you with your magic and make sure you are not going bad or anything in that sense._

_Please say hi to my family and take care._

_Best wishes,_

_Harry (and Ron)"_

"See," Albus said. "Don't worry. If anyone knows, it is Dad."

Cassandra straightened up. "So, what are we going to do about Selwyn?"

Fred's eyes immediately lit up. "We could hex him. Maybe lure him to somewhere and get him to be punished."

"We can't do something like that, it's wrong," said Rose, smacking Fred again.

"But he said that Nimwe is dangerous," Cassandra said. "He should know that we don't tolerate this."

"A hex will do. I've heard about this…"

"No." Nimwe's voice was stern, though still soft. "I don't want to give him a reason to tell more lies about me."

"Oh, please, let us do something, please," Fred pleaded, but he recognised a lost cause when he saw one.

"I'll just stay in the Gryffindor Common Room, do my homework and that's it." She took another spoon with cereal, stood up and walked out of the Great Hall. Several eyes followed her steps and the students began talking again when she was gone.

Cassandra turned to her friends and James, Fred and Rose. "We won't do anything. But as soon as that git moves his finger in the wrong way, he has to watch his back." She looked so determined that the children just nodded and even Rose did not dare to go against her this once.

"I'll stay with Nimwe," Albus said and he left the table.

"Well, this was cosy, but we have to go. So much to do and so little time." James and Fred joined the other half of Marauders part II.

The rest of the breakfast was mostly silent with the occasional grunt of little despair, because of the situation.

The happiness Nimwe felt in the first month had vanished with that Saturday breakfast. She kept herself low-profile; not saying much, working hard on her homework and only going somewhere when absolutely necessary.

She had received several letters from people who wrote that she should disappear and that she was a danger for society. She did not open them anymore, but threw them in the dustbin as soon as she was in the Common Room. Professor Longbottom told her that several journalists wanted to speak to her and the Ministry was also interested in her. He promised her that they would keep them away from Hogwarts, though he said that the Ministry would come to meet her in the near future, when her magic was bettered developed.

At school Nimwe could not keep the students from discussing her. Whispers accompanied her wherever she went and in class the students of the other Houses stayed as far away as possible. Nimwe endured it with silence. She tried her best in class, though she did not enjoy it as she used to. There were some occasional shouts to her and pushes in the corridors, but she kept her eyes fixed on a point in the distance and Cassandra, Albus, Scorpius and the others made sure they stopped quickly.

Calhoun Selwyn seemed to enjoy everything: he had a constant grin on his face and he did not hold back of whispering a sneer when she was nearby without someone to help her. Nimwe did not talk back: she did not want to give him a reason to write to his mother again.

She had received a letter from Charlie on Saturday afternoon with the same message as Harry's: Don't worry, you are not dangerous, don't believe the article. It was easier said than done.

Nimwe noticed the worried looks she got from her friends, but she did not react to them. She simply looked away and began to work hard on a spell or an essay.

After a week the freshness of the article began to fade and Nimwe was left alone. Nothing had happened around Nimwe and people began to forget the article and instead talk about the newest couple or interesting lessons.

The students began to look forward to the first Quidditch match of the year: Gryffindor versus Slytherin.


	10. The New Quidditch Player

**Chapter 10. A small chapter compared to the previous two and I have to admit, I was struggling when writing it. So it is not a chapter I'm proud of, but I think it will be more interesting from here on.**

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**Chapter 10: The New Quidditch Player**

Saturday, two weeks after the article in the Daily Prophet, was the day of the first Quidditch match. When Nimwe looked out the window next to her bed, she saw that the weather was pleasant for the Quidditch match: not too much wind, a kind sun and the temperature would not be too low for the spectators: all in all a pleasant day. She dressed into her red Gryffindor sweater and walked with Cassandra to the Great Hall where the boys were already eating. All three were dressed in red and Jack was almost bouncing up and down out of excitement.

"Good morning," Albus greeted them.

"Good morning. The weather is good, isn't it?" Cassandra said, sitting next to him.

He nodded. "I'm curious to our Quidditch team. James said they were okay, but not great. Slytherin won the Quidditch Cup last year, so they must be good."

"But it is also possible that the best players have left Hogwarts," Cassandra said.

"True. Do you know anyone in our team?" Albus asked her.

"No, I don't. You?"

Albus shook his head.

"In that case we'll just have to wait and see."

One hour later the student body left the castle to see the Quidditch game. Everyone was excited to see: especially now it was between Gryffindor and Slytherin: there seemed to be a natural rivalry between the Houses.

Nimwe, Cassandra, Albus and Scorpius sat between the other Gryffindors. Behind them were Fred, Bran and Ryan. Albus turned around.

"Where's James? He wouldn't want to miss this," he asked Fred.

"I think he'll be here any minute," Fred answered with a big grin.

"Hey, Nimwe," Bran leaned forward. "How're you doing?"

Nimwe looked a bit surprised. "Good, thanks, and you? Have you already found a better name than the Marauders part II?"

"No, we haven't. We've been busy with other things," Bran said meaningfully.

"Busy with what?" Nimwe asked.

"Were you the ones that coloured the hair of Flitwick?" Cassandra asked.

Ryan, who had been listening, grinned, so showing his snow-white teeth. "That's possible. It could also be total coincidence that he mentioned in our class that he always wanted to be a Metamorphmagus just a few days before."

The first years laughed.

A high tone made them cringe and a voice through a megaphone said: "Welcome Hogwarts students and teachers! My name is Noah Quinn and the game Gryffindor-Slytherin is about to begin. First I introduce to you: Slytherin! Moore, Alexander, Dogwan, Bulkel, Dupont, Reece and Prince!"

Seven students dressed in green Quidditch robes flew a round above the Quidditch field on their brooms. They varied in sizes and Nimwe saw there were two girls.

"And here is Gryffindor!" Noah continued. "Jones, Morrison, Raj, Tayler, Wood, deCote and Potter!"

While seven players in red flew by Albus and Nimwe looked at each other with shocked expressions. "Did he say Potter?" Albus asked precisely what Nimwe thought. They looked as one back to the field where all players were flying on their place while the captains Jones and Moore shook hands. On the far end of the Gryffindor line was a boy with messy black hair and a grin on his face. James waved shortly to his friends.

"James is playing?" Albus shouted it at no-one in particular. "And he didn't even brag about it?" He turned to Fred, who was waving a red flag. "You knew?"

"Of course! I was bound to find out when he kept disappearing for a few hours in the evenings. Now, they are starting!"

Indeed, Madam Hooch, who was the referee, whistled and threw the Quaffle (a red ball) in the air. Immediately three players of each team rushed to it. The game had started.

It was soon clear that James had gained the position of Seeker. He flew high above the game, staying out of it and looking around for the Golden Snitch, a walnut-sized ball that was worth 150 points.

The two teams were rather even in the level of playing: one would take the lead, but soon the other team caught up. It was an exciting game and Noah Quinn's commentary was enthusiastic.

"Raj scores! 40 to 50, though Slytherin is still in the lead. Potter and Prince still haven't spotted the Snitch. If the game continues like this, it will be decided by the Seekers, which team wins. Prince has been the Seeker for Slytherin for three years, so he has the experience. Potter is the newest addition to the Gryffindor team and though he lacks experience, Quidditch flows through his blood. His mother Ginny Potter was a Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies for several years and his father Harry Potter is known to be the youngest Seeker in hundred years: chosen to be the Seeker for the Gryffindor team in his first year. But family doesn't say anything. Potter will have to prove himself today to be more than a name."

Nimwe bend over to Albus. "He just had to give James some pressure, didn't he?"

Albus chuckled. "Nimwe, he has the name Potter, he'll always feel pressure, so will I and so will Lily. He'll do fine. He was born for a broomstick."

Their attention was back on the game where one of the Slytherin Beaters had sent a Bludger to one of the Chasers of Gryffindor. It hit him hard and he let go of the Quaffle, which was caught by a Slytherin Chaser. He was racing to the Hoops on the Gryffindor side, when suddenly James shot forward to the other end of the field. All attention was now on him and Prince, who was following him on his tail and closing in.

"Potter has seen the Snitch!" Noah yelled through the megaphone. "Potter and Prince are racing to be the first to catch the Snitch. Who will catch it and make his team the winner of today? They are so close!"

Cassandra had grabbed Nimwe's hand in excitement and both sat on the front of their seats, both encouraging James to catch the Snitch.

"Come on, James, come on!" His brother was biting on his lip.

Both Seekers stretched out their arm to the Snitch.

For Nimwe it happened all fast and she only saw who one, when the Seeker stretched his arm in the air and showed the audience the Golden Snitch.

"Potter has caught the Snitch! Gryffindor wins with 210 to 60 from Slytherin."

The Gryffindors erupted in wild cheering and the other Houses clapped, though the Slytherins did it with sour faces. Nimwe and Cassandra were jumping up and down, hugging each other and everyone in the near distance. The celebration did not end till twelve that evening when Professor Longbottom sent all students to bed.

James was the new hero of Gryffindor. The first days after the game he got compliments of students and had made name as James Potter, not as the son as. He radiated when he was walking through the corridors or sitting in the Common Room. Albus made a joke of it: "He's more pleased with himself than he already was."

James who was just walking by, smacked his brother on the head. "I'm not! I just rocked this Saturday, it's a fact."

Nimwe laughed. "Just show everyone you can pull off the same thing the next match and than we will talk more."

Nimwe and Professor Longbottom were in the usual classroom for their weekly lesson. They had practiced some spells, such as _Wingardium Leviosa_ and _Expelliarmus_. It was going well and Longbottom proposed to have fewer lessons and meet every other week. Nimwe agreed and was packing her bag, when Professor Longbottom said something unexpected.

"The Ministry is coming to Hogwarts next week to meet you."

Nimwe dropped her Charms book and turned to the professor. "When?"

"On Wednesday. You'll have the afternoon free."

"What are they going to do?" She began to feel very anxious, still remembering the article in the Daily Prophet.

"Just talk to you, talk to me, maybe ask you to demonstrate some spells, but nothing grand. They are just curious and after that article in the Daily Prophet they have to take a look here."

"They have to set the public at ease?"

Longbottom sighed. "Probably, but they are also very interested in you. It will take place here, so please come after lunch to this classroom on Wednesday."

"Yes, sir."

So it was that on Wednesday Nimwe could not eat her lunch due to her anxiety for that afternoon. The days had passed to fast for her liking, she wished she did not have to go. She played with her food with her spoon and kept looking around to see if she saw an unfamiliar adult, who would be the one to question her.

Her friends noticed her behaviour, but had decided to ignore it as it would not help her being less anxious. When everyone had finished lunch, Nimwe stood up, said goodbye to her friends and left the Great Hall.

The classroom door was closed, so Nimwe knocked and waited for someone to tell her to enter. The door opened and a short, bald wizard with a beginning belly stood before her.

"Miss la Faye?" Nimwe nodded. "Come in, please." He stepped back and opened the door a little more. Nimwe stepped inside the classroom and saw that Professor McGonagall, Professor Longbottom and a young witch with blonde hair in a bun and parchment and a quill in her hands.

"My name is Arnold Vesuvus and this is my assistant Madeleine Morgan. We are from the Improper Use of Magic Office." Nimwe looked shocked at him and turned than to the two professors. "Not that we think your use of magic is improper," Vesuvus continued hastily, "it's just that we do not know which department suits you best, so the Minister sent me." He waved to the student desks. "Please sit down. Professor McGonagall and Professor Longbottom will be here to support you and provide more information. My assistant will write everything down. Don't worry, you can't say anything wrong. This is just for the Ministry of Magic to get a grasp on your type of magic and maybe we could identify more witches and wizards like you."

He sat down on the chair behind the teacher's desk and took a parchment and a set of glasses out of his black robes. He pinched the glasses on his nose and bend over to read what he had written down. McGonagall and Longbottom both sat beside Nimwe and Morgan, the assistant, took a seat at the side of the classroom to not interrupt, but still to hear everything that was said.

Vesuvus looked up again. "Could you please describe your magic? Just what you know and how you experience it."

Nimwe thought for a moment. Could she really say everything? Not that she had anything to hide, but she could not forget the accusations of the Daily Prophet. People thought she was dangerous and she did not want to say anything to proof that. Professor Longbottom reached out and pinched lightly her arm in reassurance. She took a deep breath and began to talk.

"When I was at Ollivander's to buy my wand this summer, I have held a lot of wands. None of them gave the response Ollivander expected. I didn't like holding a wand, not at all. When Ollivander asked about it, he must have realised that I don't need a wand: it has happened about six times before apparently and he sent me away without a wand. He wrote to Professor McGonagall and she told me here at school. I showed signs of this magic by painting."

"Painting?" Vesuvus asked, slightly confused.

"Yes, sir. I paint since my father's death and when I finish a painting, it comes to live: it moves, just like every other painting in the wizard world."

"Interesting," Vesuvus said, while Morgan kept writing. "Please, tell me more about how you experience your magic."

"Here at school I join the normal lessons and I have to do and say the same things as the others. Sometimes my movements are a little simpler or it can only be done with my hand stretched or just a finger. I feel my magic in my hand when I say a spell. It differs from each type of magic, but all are pleasant to feel. Now I am used to it, it is just a part of doing magic."

"Has accidental magic happened?"

Nimwe thought. "Do you mean since September or also before that?"

"No, just since you started here at Hogwarts."

"No, it hasn't. Unless you think what happens when I paint is accidental magic."

Vesuvus turned to his assistant. "Write down that accidental magic only occurs when painting." He turned back to Nimwe. "I don't know if we register it as accidental magic when you're at home this holiday, but this is what I think of it at the moment. Do you know how you got your magic?"

Nimwe shook her head. "No, I don't. We do have a suspicion. We think," she looked shortly at the professors who gave a small nod for her to proceed. "that I inherited from my mother. I've never known her and Charlie, my godfather, is sure my father was a normal wizard. I think he would've told me, if he was like me."

Vesuvus pressed his hands for a short moment against each other. "What did your father tell about your mother?"

"Nothing," Nimwe said, shifting, because she was feeling uncomfortable. "I never asked."

Vesuvus wanted to ask more, but McGonagall scraped her throat. "I think this is enough about Miss la Faye's family. Would you like to know more about her magic?"

The wizard now only looked at the Headmistress. "No, I think Miss la Faye doesn't know much about it. You said there is little known about the history of her magic?"

"That's correct. We can only guess what is written about wandless magic is about the magic that Miss la Faye possesses and what is just an example of a very strong wizard or witch with a wand." McGonagall stood up. "We can promise you that we will document the progress of Miss la Faye and share it with you. I can assure you that we will take good care of her and that she is not dangerous. We would appreciate it if you would make that public. I am not fond of worrying parents."

Vesuvus looked her directly in the eyes, backed away a little and then stood up. "Of course, I will let an article be published in the Daily Prophet. I got your word on letting us in on the developments?"

"Yes, you do, mister Vesuvus. Can I accompany you and miss Morgan on the way out?"

Everyone stood up, said goodbye and the Headmistress left the room with the Ministry officials. Professor Longbottom and Nimwe were left alone in the classroom.

"That went well, didn't it?" Longbottom rested against a desk and smiled to her.

Nimwe grabbed a lock of her dark brown hair and twisted it shortly around her index finger. "I think so. Though there was not much to tell, was there?"

"No, you're very unique. We will learn more about you during the years. Now, go to your class, we don't want you to miss your lessons." He smiled for the last time to her and left the classroom.

The article appeared the next day in the Daily Prophet. Mister Vesuvus was literally quoted: "Nimwe la Faye is not a threat to the magical world; she is just an eleven year old learning how to use her magic at Hogwarts. We will document her developments and hope to learn more about wandless magic."

The article changed something in Nimwe. The first article had closed her to other people, even to her friends. This article made her turn back to who she used to be: open, happy, taking everything in she could learn and having fun with her friends. She did not receive any threat letters anymore and some readers even wrote to say that they were wrong in the beginning.

Selwyn and his followers still felt the need to throw some insults to her head, but they also did that to Albus, Schorpius and Cassandra and the four of them laughed about it.

The students began to act normal to her and she made a few friends. She discovered that the daughter of Mister Vesuvus was Valerie who was a first year Hufflepuff. Valerie had heard everything from her uncle and was the one that had converted the Hufflepuffs for her. Valerie turned out to be a shy girl, who saw the good in people, an admirable trait.

Nimwe also met Padric and Caroline, the new friends of Rose. Padric Branagh was a brown haired boy with glasses and an excellent memory. He was easy to talk to and kept Rose calm. Caroline Emerald, a muggleborn girl with black short hair, was the quiet and shy person of the trio, but she was very eager to learn, especially about the magic world.

The first two years of Hogwarts were careless years for Nimwe. She learned a bunch of spells, developed her magic, had fun with her friends, kept painting and just had the time of her life. In the holidays Charlie came back from Romania and they would live at the Burrow. Every Christmas the whole Weasley family would come back together and in the summer holiday Charlie would take her to Romania. They would go camping and see the dragons Charlie studied and worked with. Nimwe always looked forward to those trips. She did not see Charlie for a whole year, with exceptions of the Christmas and the Easter holiday, so sharing time with him in a tent, talking and playing games was great. Sometimes she felt some sadness, because this is what she was supposed to do with her father and even with her mother.

Nimwe had not cared much about her mother when she was little: she had left her father and her and that was it. But now that she knew that she had probably inherited her manual magic from her mother, she was beginning to feel curious to the woman who gave birth to her. She regretted just a little that she had never asked her father. She just knew that her mother was called Maeve (her father had never told her last name), that she was beautiful (her father used to say that she was as beautiful as her mother, though Nimwe had forbidden him from saying that when she was five) and that she had become pregnant after just a few months of dating Conor la Faye. The girl did not feel a strong desire to meet her mother, but she would like some answers to her questions.

Nimwe's education went well: she was an average student, worked hard enough and was particularly good in spell work. There was just nothing to worry about.

It was now the beginning of Nimwe's third year. It was September 1, platform 9 and three-quarters was packed and Nimwe was excited to see her friends again.

"Nimwe!" The familiar voice of Cassandra came out of a compartment through a window. "We're over here!"

"I'm coming!" Nimwe turned back to Charlie. "I'll put my trunk and Gwyndion in the train and then I'll come back, okay?"

"Sure, I'll just wait here."

Nimwe walked past a few compartments and then heaved her trunk into the train. Cassandra inside the train helped her and the two entered the compartment which harboured three other trunks and a black owl, which belonged to Scorpius.

"I'm going to say bye to Charlie, I'll see you later!" and Nimwe was off again. She had found Charlie again and the two exchanged the advices they always did when Charlie went back to Romania and Nimwe to Hogwarts.

"Stay safe."

"Don't wrestle with dragons."

"Stay away from Filch."

"Write regularly to me."

"Do your best at school."

"Stay safe."

The two hugged as the whistle that announced departure was heard. They let go, Nimwe kissed Charlie on the cheek and then entered the train. She walked to the compartment where her trunk was and saw that her friends Cassandra, Albus and Scorpius were already there. There was not much space at the window, but the four squeezed and waved at their family. Nimwe saw Charlie standing next to Harry and Ginny, Scorpius' parents were also standing closeby and Cassandra's parents were a few metres away, waving at all their children.

The train slowly began to ride and the platform soon became a small spot in the distance. A new school year had just begun.


	11. Facing Fears

**I'm very sorry for the delay. It was a busy weekend for me and I just could not find the time to write. Hope you enjoy it!**

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**Chapter 11: Facing Fears**

Nimwe, Cassandra, Albus and Scorpius sat down on the benches, just sitting back and relaxing. The journey would take a few hours.

"So, how were your holidays?" Cassandra asked the three.

"Good," Albus said. "We went to France for a week. Dad had to go back because of suspicious things that have happened. Just a normal vacation for us. I was a lot at the Burrow and I went to see Scorpius." He pointed to his friend, who nodded.

"Yeah, that was before me and my parents went to Caribbean for a month."

Nimwe looked intently at her friends. "You didn't get a tan."

Scorpius blushed slightly, though it was clearly seen on his pale skin. "Genetics. I have to stay out of the sun, but my mother loves the Caribbean, so I went to see a lot of animals and stayed inside, reading. It was very relaxing. You went to Romania, Nimwe?"

"Yup, with Charlie. I got to see the hatching of a Chinese Red Nose, they are very cute when they are an hour old." She laughed and put her hair behind her left ear.

Cassandra looked absent minded at her movement, but then her eyes widened a little. "Nimwe, what do you have in your ear?"

Albus and Scorpius looked confused to the girls, but Nimwe grinned widely. "Oh, nothing Cassandra, just a second set of earrings." She touched her two earrings in her left ear with fondness. The first one was a silver earring as wide as the highest part of her finger and a black stone was hanging on it. The second one was also silver, but smaller and a Celtic knot was hanging on it. Exact copies of those earrings were in her other ear, though the bigger right earring had a red stone on it, instead of a black one. The one with the onyx she had inherited of her father and she never took it out. To match the earring, but still make her father's special, she bought a matching one with a Brazilian agate. It represented her.

"You just got another set of pierced holes in your ears?"

"I think Charlie is happy that I don't want a belly piercing." Nimwe laughed. "No, I wanted this for a some time."

"I like it," Cassandra said and it felt good for Nimwe to have her friend's approving. "Well, for the ones interested, I had a great summer at home." There was some sarcasm Nimwe spotted.

"Oy, I visited you, that was fine right?" Nimwe said, quasi-hurt.

"Yeah, but that was it." Cassandra sighed.

"We feel sorry for you," Scorpius said, but his smile said different.

"Thank you, I feel so much better now."

The journey was pleasant. They bought plenty of sweets from the trolley lady and shared and several friends passed by. Rose had loosened up compared to her first year: she changed into her robes during the journey and not right before it. She was like always with Padric and Caroline and the three joined the four Gryffindors for a moment.

Near the end five Slytherins came to stand in the doorway.

"La Faye, they still allow you at school?"

"Selwyn, just move along and take your people with you," Cassandra said bored.

"Don't tell him what to do, McLame," said Cecelia Nuvelle, the girl with her nose permanently in the air.

Albus and Nimwe snorted.

"Don't try to be sharp, Cecelia," Scorpius said, staring her down with his grey eyes. "Cos you're not." She held her nose even higher.

"Selwyn, go, nobody invited you here," Nimwe said and she looked directly into his black eyes. She had grown used to them in their many unpleasant encounters. His accusations were always the same: Nimwe was dangerous, Albus, the son of the man who sent his father to prison, was just a bad copy of his father, Scorpius was a blood traitor and Cassandra socialised with them. Selwyn always said it in a different way, but that was what it came down to.

The boy gave them a last death glare and then walked on, his four friends walking closely behind him.

Albus stood up and shut the door. "And I just kept hoping he had moved to Africa or so."

"Not going to happen," Cassandra answered, busy with unpacking her Chocolate Frog. "He's like a parasite. Anyone still in need of Cliodna?"

"Nope."

"No, I just need Merwyn the Malicious," Albus said, getting a Chocolate Frog himself.

Nimwe sat more backwards and sighed: "I wish we were at Hogwarts yet."

"Just another hour," Scorpius said. "Do you have your Trivial Pursuit with you? I want to crush you with my great knowledge."

"I'll play just to proof to you that you are not that great," Nimwe said back and an hour later when the train began to slow down in speed, Scorpius had won with a nose length, which he was pretty smug about.

They left the train and got into a carriage that seemed to ride on his own, though Rose had told them that Thestrals pulled them. Thestrals were horselike creatures that only people who had seen death could see. None of the four could, which they were grateful for.

At the gate, that was flanked by two statues of boars, they got out of the carriage and walked the last metres to the school. The sky was already very dark and the first few stars could be seen, though there were not many due to the clouds.

The Great Hall was as beautiful as ever: the ceiling was the same as the sky, candles were floating in the air and cast their light on the golden plates and goblets that were set on the five tables. The teachers were already sitting at the table at the head of the hall. Only Hagrid was missing as he was collecting the first years like he did every year. At the middle of the table in the highest chair was Professor Burnewood, the second Slytherin Headmaster Hogwarts had ever had. He was leaning back, watching the students that came into the Hall and searched for a spot to sit.

He was as always dressed in dark robes and his hat was put perfectly on his grey short hair. He was now the face of Hogwarts and he made a good appearance.

Nimwe sat down next to Cassandra and looked at the other teachers. Professor Longbottom in green robes with a gentle smile and a stripe of dirt on his cheek that he apparently had not noticed after leaving the greenhouse. He was talking to Professor Clearwater, the Defence Against the Dark Arts, who was wearing practical clothes and had a red streak in her black hair.

Nimwe elbowed Cassandra. "You've seen the change in Clearwater?"

The girl looked past her to the teacher's table. "Wow, that's daring! Do you think she's got a boyfriend?"

Nimwe looked at Cassandra. "She's not married or something?"

"No, she isn't wearing a wedding ring and in her office there isn't any picture of her and a man."

"She has no pictures at all in her office."

"See!" It was all clear to Cassandra. "I bet she's met someone. Talking about the teachers. Has Blevins become more nervous over the summer?"

Nimwe looked at the man on the other side of Burnewood. He was tall and thin and his hands were fidgeting with his robes, cutlery and his own fingers. His hair was lifeless and under his eyes were purple bags. Since he had come to the school last year to take the Transfiguration post Nimwe had felt sorry for him. She did not know what it was that made him so uncomfortable, but she almost felt the need to go to him, put an arm around his shoulders and tell him it was all going to be all right, though he must be at least twenty years older than her.

"I just can't understand why he teaches if he doesn't feel comfortable in a crowded area," Cassandra continued.

Nimwe shrugged; she had no idea. "But you have to admit: he's good in what he does."

"He is, though it sometimes is hard to believe, because he is so insecure."

"True." Nimwe and Cassandra could not talk further, because the oak doors of the Great Hall swung open and Professor O'Field of Potions was the first in the row of the fresh new years.

Two redheads, walking behind each other, stood out: Hugo and Lily were finally starting at Hogwarts. Both looked quite nervous, but the awe overruled the nervousness at the moment. Nimwe was looking at them with fondness and was startled when Cassandra elbowed her hard.

"What?" Nimwe hissed.

Cassandra pointed at the end of the row of the new students. "That boy, at the end, isn't he a bit too old to start here?" Nimwe followed her friend's finger and was now looking at a boy that was a head taller than the other children. His hair was long, messy and light brown. He was slightly darker than a normal blank person, but it was not a natural colour, more as if he had been in the sun regularly without overtanning. He was walking with his hands in his pockets, looking around with interest, but not with the same expression of amazement as the others. Nimwe had the feeling she had seen him somewhere, but she could not think of where or when. It was frustrating.

All the first years with the older boy lined up at the side of the Hall next to the teacher's table. The stool with the Sorting Hat was put in front of the teacher's table. A seam cracked open and the Hat began to sing about the history of the Hogwarts and the characteristics of each House.

Every student clapped hard for the Hat, who bowed to each table and then fell silent.

"When I call your name, please come forward. I will place this Hat on you. Anthony, Richard."

A round boy with big scared eyes stumbled forward. Nimwe watched with some amusement how the new children walked forward and were sorted into their House. She was dosing off a bit and if someone asked, she could not tell how a kid was named.

"Hunter, Niall," Professor O'Field called and the older boy walked forward. His appearance caused an increase in whispers, however he did not seem to be bothered by it. The Hat was also too big for him, but his head did not swim in it like with the eleven-year olds.

The Sorting Hat nodded a few times with his tip and then yelled: "GRYFFINDOR!" The whole Gryffindor table cheered for him, though there was still some confusion. He joined the two boys that had been sorted into Gryffindor before him and Professor O'Field proceeded with calling out the names. Nimwe's concentration was slipping away for a bit, but she sat right up again when she heard a familiar name.

Lily Potter, small, red haired and extremely nervous, walked to the stool and sat on it. The Sorting Hat was too big for her and her eyes could not be seen anymore. It did not take the Hat long to shout: "GRYFFINDOR!"

Nimwe cheered and clapped along with Albus, who sat across her and a little further at the table were James and Fred jumping up and down. The girl walked to them with a big smile on her face and waved shortly to her family before sitting next to a Japanese girl.

Hugo was the last one to be sorted. Nimwe now was a little unsure about where he would be put: his sister was a Ravenclaw, but both his parents Gryffindor. She watched him sit down on the stool. The Hat did not take long at all: "GRYFFINDOR!" The applause from the Weasley family was as great for him as for Lily. Nimwe saw Rose at the Ravenclaw clapping for him with a big grin on her face. Family stretches beyond Houses.

The feast was as always delicious and Nimwe had a difficult time with resisting the last piece of chocolate pie that was just screaming at her: eat me! She was a source of amusement to Cassandra, when she kept staring at the pie and sighing when she imagined how great it would taste. It would just not fit in her stomach and she knew that she had to stop eating in order to not feel sick.

When everyone had finished eating, professor Burnewood stood up. "Welcome, new students. Welcome back, old students. It's good to see you have all returned safely. I have a few announcements to make. The Dark Forest is not for you to enter. Mister Filch stresses the fact that the use of magic in the corridors is forbidden and the list with banned products is still intact. Tomorrow the lessons will start at nine. Be here in the Great Hall before half past eight to receive your time schedule. For now, I bid you good night." He sat down and the students all rose, chattering and laughing, though the small ones were looking very tired.

Scorpius hurried to one of the prefects for the password and Nimwe, Cassandra and Albus just let themselves go with the flow of Gryffindors.

Scorpius joined them again, looking a bit dishevelled. "I know the password, so we are free to go to bed."

"Good!" Cassandra sighed. Nimwe could not agree more: her bed was waiting for her.

"Good morning!" Cassandra's dream woke Nimwe up from a dream that had not made sense at all and she forgot it immediately when she opened her eyes.

Jade in the bed on the other side of room, rolled onto her stomach and groaned "Is it?"

"Yes, Jade, it is! The weather is nice, you can see your favourite teachers again and I'm here."

Nimwe sat up and looked with slight wonder at the girl, who was already in her full school uniform, wearing a big smile on her face. "You're very happy today, it almost scares me."

Cassandra laughed. "I just feel that today is a good day. So come out of your bed, I'm hungry!"

"Yeah, yeah, coming!" Nimwe said, moving one leg out of her bed, keeping the rest of her body underneath the warm blankets.

Cassandra was not buying it and pulled on the revealed leg.

"Coming!" Nimwe yelled, waking up Sharada. With pains she climbed out of bed, got her stuff and stumbled to the bathroom.

After a good shower Nimwe came out of the bathroom she was refreshed and looking forward to the day too. She and Cassandra walked downstairs, to the Common Room, left the tower and walked on an automatic pilot to the Great Hall, which was filled with students, though it was clear that many were still in their dormitories. The Gryffindor boys were already there and Nimwe and Cassandra joined them.

"Good morning!" Cassandra greeted them with the same cheery voice as when she had woken up Nimwe.

"Good morning," Scorpius responded. "Someone is happy."

"I am," Cassandra nodded, getting some toast and marmalade from one of the big plates on the table.

"Girls," Albus said, getting the attention of them both. "I have to introduce you to Niall Hunter." He pointed to his left, where the boy of the day before, who was sorted though he was clearly older than eleven, was seated, eating some cereal.

"Hi," Niall said, his mouth still filled with some of his breakfast.

"Hi," Nimwe said with surprise in her voice. Cassandra waved shortly at him, taking in his appearance.

"He's in our class from now on," Albus said.

"Yup," Niall said. He had swallowed his breakfast and he looked with interest at the girls.

"So, why are you starting so late at Hogwarts?" Cassandra asked.

"I used to travel with my parents and my sister. My parents educated us, but they thought it was best to send us here. My sister is a first year, also in Gryffindor. I refused when they wanted to send me here when I was eleven and last year to start here in third year, because they were going to Japan. But this year I was forced, my sister can persuade me with her eyes, it's horrible."

"So, how old are you?" Nimwe asked. She had caught the bit about starting in third year last year.

"Fourteen. If everything had gone, as it should have, I would be in fourth year now. But my parents taught me only the basics and Burnewood insisted on putting me with you, so I would not miss information in the extra classes."

"You are in our year?" Jade and Sharada had just joined them and sat down next to Cassandra, still eyeing the new student.

"Yup, I was just explaining to your friends. I'm Niall Hunter."

"Jade Draconis and this is Sharada Flynn, we are also third years," Jade said. Sharada just waved, diving hungrily into the toast. "Do you have your schedules already?"

Scorpius shook his head. "Longbottom has just begun with the beginning of the table. He should be here soon."

"Good, I want to know when I start Divination," Jade said.

"You took Divination?" Nimwe asked.

"Yes and Care of Magical Creatures. Sharada took the same. What did you choose?"

"Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes. I heard that Divination is very imprecise and all."

Jade shrugged. "It was what interested me the most. I'll just wait and see what happens, won't I?"

Nimwe nodded. She had hesitated between Ancient Runes and Divination, because both appealed to her, though Divination more because of the symbolism, not because she believed in predicting the future. In the end she had chosen Ancient Runes, because a lot of material was written in that language and Nimwe was eager to read those stories.

Care of Magical Creatures was a no-brainer for the daughter of a dragon-fanatic. She was looking forward to those lessons.

She looked again at Niall, still with the feeling of the evening before that she had seen him before, but just as she wanted to ask, Professor Longbottom interrupted them.

"Good morning. I have your schedules here." He waved with them shortly and then handed them out individually. "So, everyone has their schedule? Good. Mister Hunter," he turned to Niall, "I am Professor Longbottom. I am the head of Gryffindor, so if you have any questions or come across any problems, you can come to me, okay?"

"Yes, sir," Niall said, nodding his head as double confirmation.

"Good. Miss la Faye, I expect you Wednesday at three o'clock in the usual classroom."

"Yes, sir, I'll be there."

"In that case, a good day to all of you," and the professor walked further to the next group of Gryffindors.

Cassandra was closely examining her schedule. "We begin with Defence against the Dark Arts and then Care for Magical Creatures and this afternoon Transfiguration. Sweet."

"Well, let's go then," Nimwe said, standing up. "We have to get our books and I don't want to be late on the first day."

"Coming," Cassandra said, also standing up. "We'll see you later."

Some nodded, but Albus and Scorpius, also done with their breakfast, joined them on the way out.

They were soon in their dormitories and Nimwe had no problem in packing her bag. Cassandra was a different case. While Nimwe sat on the bed with crossed legs, Cassandra was all over the room, searching for her Transfiguration book.

"He's going to be mad if I don't have it with me," she said, turning over her trunk.

"Look between your clothes," Nimwe advised. "Last year your book was in one of your skirts, remember."

"Oh, right." Clothes were thrown in the air due to Cassandra's determination to find the textbook. It took several minutes, but eventually she found the book in a travelling cloak. They hurried downstairs to the floor where the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom was. Several Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were standing just outside the classroom.

"Hey!" Rose greeted them. She was standing with her friends Padric and Caroline next to Albus, Scorpius and Niall.

"Hey," Nimwe answered and then she turned to Niall. She looked at him, trying again to figure out how she knew him. She looked into his green and brown eyes and saw that he had a scar on the side of his head, next to his eye. She looked back at him. "Have you ever been in Romania in the summer?"

He looked surprised at her. "I have." He looked at her a little more intense. "We've met." Not a question, more a statement.

"I think we do. Are you the boy that fell out of a tree in Romania and cut your head and broke your arm?"

Niall looked stunned for a moment, but then a wide grin appeared on his face. "You are the little quiet girl that took a book everywhere. Your Dad is a dragon carer, right? He was cool. How is he?"

Nimwe had smiled when he recognised her, but now that smile faltered. "Uhm," she said uncomfortably, fidgeting with her dark brown hair. "He died about five and a half years ago. He was hit by a dragon's tail."

Niall was not smiling either. "I'm sorry for that. So you live with family now?"

Nimwe shook her head. "Not really. I live with my godfather, Charlie. He happens to be Albus' uncle, so I got the big Weasley family as family."

"Well, that's cool." Niall could not say more, because Professor Clearwater had opened the classroom door and the students were entering the room. All desks and chairs were put against the wall and a trunk was put on the teacher's desk. The third-years looked quite confused when they realised they could not sit anywhere.

"Please, put your bags aside and stand here in a half circle. Today we'll have a practical lesson." This earned her a few cheers and the students were looking excited. The Defence against the Dark Arts had been more theoretical in the first two year than practical, so the students welcomed this with enthusiasm. "Good, first some theory. Can anyone tell me what a Boggart is?"

Rose was by far the first to raise her hand and one of the few, the rest of the wizardborn children looked with some fright at the professor. "Miss Weasley."

"A Boggart is a shape-shifter that takes the form that frightens you the most."

"Very good, Miss Weasley. So, for today I have found a Boggart, which we can practice with." She pointed to the trunk on the desk, which began to rattle as if on cue. "This Boggart will try to frighten you, because it takes form as soon as it comes out of the trunk. The good thing is that because we are with a group of people, it can be confused and it won't know what shape to take, causing it to be not frightening enough. To defeat a Boggart you need a spell, your imagination and laughter. The spell is _Riddikulus. _With that you will force it to change shape. Your imagination will determine how it will change. Change it in such a way it will make you laugh, which will defeat the Boggart. Got that? Good." She talked on without waiting for a real answer. "Now I want you to think of what scares you the most. The Boggart will change into that if it concentrates on you. When you have done that, think of how you can change it, so it will make you laugh." Clearwater waited for a few moments to let the students think. Nimwe saw that several were muttering to themselves and Scorpius was smiling triumphantly; he must have thought of something good. She was also thinking of what she feared the most: that was not that difficult to figure out: she feared that she would lose Charlie or any other family. She knew how it felt to lose her father and she prayed that Charlie would not also be killed by his passion. Now the question was: how was she going to make a dead man look entertaining?

She had not time enough to answer that, because Clearwater asked the attention of the class again. "Okay, take out your wands. Remember, the spell is _Riddikulus_. No special wandmovements are needed. When I call you, step forward. The Boggart will change into your fear and then make him change into what makes you laugh. Understood?" Nimwe nodded and she stretched her right hand to feel prepared, though she still did not know what she would change her Boggart into. Maybe something with flowers?

"Mister Potter, you first." Albus took a deep breath and with a determined expression on his face he stepped forward. Professor Clearwater flicked her wand and the trunk lid went up. An Inferius crawled out of the trunk. It was a corpse with shaky arms and legs and its eyes were soulless. Nimwe could not repress the shiver.

Albus was looking with big eyes at the Inferius, but then his green eyes narrowed for a moment and he said in a clear voice "Riddikulus." There was a bang and the Inferius began to dance an Irish dance.

The class laughed and Albus walked back with a satisfied smile.

"Good, mister Potter," the professor said. "Mister Branagh, please." The bespectacled Ravenclaw walked forward and the dancing Inferius immediately changed into a Banshee. The woman with black hair to the floor and a bony greenish face made the sound where she was famous for: it made the hairs in Nimwe's neck stand right up.

"R-r-riddikulus!" Padric yelled and the woman tripped over her hair, causing the shrieking sound to stutter. The Boggart looked scared of the laughter and then changed into a clown with sharp teeth and then into a giant snake. Its tongue slipped in and out of its mouth and it began to slide to the group, which staggered backwards.

"You are doing fine! Miss la Faye, please!" Nimwe felt her heart miss a beat when she heard her name, but she stepped forward, determined to do this right.

There was another bang and Charlie was lying on the ground, eyes wide open without its usual spark and a big gash was on its belly; blood was streaming rapidly.

A gasp came out of the crowd, though it was not Nimwe's concern. In her mind the image changed to her father lying there, but she shut her eyes for a moment, shook her head to get the picture out of her mind and opened them again. Just two seconds had passed, but the pool of blood had grown a lot.

She stretched her hand to the corpse and yelled: "Riddikulus." The blood was gone and Charlie sat right up with a bouquet of several colour's flowers and a wink. Nimwe gave a laugh of relief.

"Lastly, Mister Hunter." Nimwe stepped back again, still shaking and Niall passed her on his way forward, giving her a quick curious look. She stood still next to Cassandra, who put an arm around her shoulder for comfort. Nimwe leaned against her in acceptance.

Instead of Charlie a green, four-legged creature with a big head was staring at Niall with his yellow eyes. "Riddikulus" and the head of the Grindylow shrinked half its size and the long fingers became balloons.

The laughter was fatal for the Boggart: it exploded into million pieces of smoke and left the class laughing.

Professor Clearwater clapped her hands and waited till the students were silent again. "Good job everyone. For everyone who fought against the Boggart, five points and five points for Ravenclaw for Miss Weasley's excellent answer. I expect an essay about Boggarts, where to find them and how to defeat them next week. Make it five hundred words."

The class made small noises of protest, but the bell rang and the class was soon empty. Nimwe heightened the strap of her shoulder bag and walked with Cassandra downstairs, to go outside to Hagrid for the next class.

"Hey, Nimwe, are you alright?" Cassandra put her hand on Nimwe's arm to stop her from walking further.

"Yeah," Nimwe answered, not looking her friend directly in the eyes.

"No, you're not. You know you can talk to me."

Nimwe's blue eyes met Cassandra's bluish grey eyes. "Thanks, but just not now."

"That's okay. I understand."

They smiled to each other and Cassandra let Nimwe go. It was what Nimwe appreciated in her friend: always here to talk, but never pushing to talk.

The rest of the day passed peacefully: Hagrid showed Flobberworms (creatures that could not do any harm) and in Transfiguration Professor Blevin was letting them Transfigure cushions into stone. All in all, a new year at Hogwarts had begun.


	12. Letters and Advice

**June… In my family that is the month of birthdays, anniversaries and graduations. All in all: Crazy June. So I have to apologise: I won't update as regularly as I used to. I will try to update at least once a week, though I hope it can be twice a week. This chapter is another shorter one, though I hope you enjoy it!**

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**Chapter 12: Letters and Advice**

The days at Hogwarts were passing by; some slow, some fast; some quiet, a lot of with some chaos caused by the Marauders part II, but all with a lot of homework. Nimwe found out that new subjects meant more homework and more to learn. She was enjoying the classes. Hagrid's Care for Magical Creatures classes were always interesting: he knew so much about them and his enthusiasm was infectious. The half-giant reminded Nimwe of her father and of Charlie and it became a class she looked forward to.

Ancient Runes was the opposite Care for Magical Creatures: it was all about the theory. In the beginning Nimwe struggled with the new signs and structures, but eventually she came in the flow and was slightly better at it, however still not great.

The old subjects were advancing. In Defence against the Dark Arts they were learning how to defend themselves against dark creatures, in Transfiguration they were working with opposite object (hard, soft, tall, short) and in Charms the classes were as chaotic as ever. Professor Flitwick kept encouraging them with his squeaky voice and it happened several times that he fell of his pile of books.

Also Potion required more concentration then before, though it went well for Nimwe. Herbology was still a subject in which Nimwe's magic was an obstacle: she still had to wear dragon's skin gloves and sometimes when she walked past a plant and touched it incidentally, it gave her a slap or a shock or whatever it did to defend itself. One time Nimwe had to go to the hospital wing because a Herbfire had burned her wrist. Ever since she was extremely cautious in the glasshouses, something some Slyterins had noticed and it happened a few times that Selwyn, Nuvelle or someone else would pass her and push her against a plant. Nimwe could do nothing more than throw Selwyn a death glare and restrain herself from casting a Leg-Locker Curse.

Selwyn and his friends had not changed much in the two years Nimwe had known him. He was still mean, arrogant and, according to Nimwe, had still nothing important to say. He was still calling Nimwe a freak, but nobody in the school believed him anymore. Just before the summer holidays the Daily Prophet had written an article about Nimwe with the observations Professor McGonagall and Professor Longbottom had made during Nimwe's first two years of education. It had been quite positive and Nimwe had not received any threats of any kind like with the first article, so she was content. She did get some owls of wizards and witches that were interested in doing experiments with her to get to know her magic better. Those scared here a little, but when she gave the letters to Professor Longbottom, he always wrote a firm, but polite letter in which he turned down the offer.

It was another morning in October and Nimwe was sitting at breakfast with Cassandra, Albus, Scorpius and Niall. It was a Sunday, not very early and it seemed that it would not be too cold today. Just the perfect day for homework.

Nimwe was just talking to Niall, who had become a good friend and turned out to have a gift for telling stories about his life all around the world, when the owl post came. A big black owl landed precisely before Nimwe and stuck out a paw with a letter bound to it. Nimwe stopped in the middle of her sentenced and looked surprised at the bird, which clicked impatiently with its beak.

Nimwe freed the owl from the letter and looked with curiosity at the address. _Nimwe la Faye, Hogwarts _was written on it in a small, graceful, but unknown handwriting. The owl spread its wide wings and took off again. Nimwe ripped the envelope open and opened the letter that was written in the same writing.

She stretched her hand out to her cup with pumpkin juice, but she halted when she read the first sentence of the letter. Her mouth fell open and her heartbeat shot up.

_Dear Nimwe,_

_My name is Maeve Emrys and I am your mother. I apologies for this sudden announcement, but I have written several openings and this was the best-formulated one. _

_We do not know each other and I know it is my fault, but when I saw you in the Daily Prophet this June, I could not get you out of my head, because you have inherited my magic. It took me some courage to write you, though._

_I write this because I want to get to know you, but I will not force you. It is your decision to write me back._

_Best regards,_

_Maeve_

Nimwe swallowed and read the letter again and again.

"Nimwe? Nimwe?"

Nimwe was shaken out of her trance and looked at Scorpius, who was on her left. She blinked and noticed that a tear fell down her cheek. Startled she wiped it away.

Scorpius looked at her worriedly with his grey eyes. "What's wrong, Nimwe?"

Albus, Cassandra and Niall looked equally worried and none of them was eating anymore.

Nimwe's hand trembled when she showed the letter. "I got… My mother…" She was speechless.

Albus extended his hand to the letter and asked with his eyes if it was okay to read it. Nimwe handed the parchment over: she did not feel she could tell them. She buried her head in her hands while she listened to Albus reading it softly out loud.

It was silent. Cassandra was the first one to say something. "Nimwe, is this real?"

Nimwe looked up again. She had not cried, but her eyes were red and her face was white as a sheet. "I think so. I never made my mother's name public."

"But you don't know her last name, right?" Albus asked.

Scorpius took the letter out of Albus' hand. "There is not a lot of information in it."

"But she says she has the same magic as I do!" Nimwe said.

"It could be a joke, you know that right?" Scorpius said.

"Why would it? It's not funny. She has the same magic as I do and the same name as my mother." Nimwe grabbed the letter and looked at it again. "I'm going to write back. I mean, what if it is my mother?"

"Do you want to know her?" Cassandra asked.

"I don't know." Nimwe put her hand in her hair. "I want to know if this is really her. I never asked about my mother." She looked at her friends. "That means something, right?"

Cassandra shrugged, not knowing what to say and Albus nodded vaguely.

Niall leaned forward and looked Nimwe right in the eyes. "I think you should write her back. Ask her some questions only she can answer to find out if she really is your biological mother. I don't know you that well yet and I don't know your background, but I know you'll regret it if you don't confirm that she is speaking the truth."

Nimwe thought, looking at the letter without reading it. She had felt excitement when she had just finished the letter, but now there was doubt. Doubt if the letter was authentic and doubt if she wanted to get to know her mother. She was curious about Maeve, but the fact that her own mother left her hurt. What should she do?

"I'll think about it," Nimwe said. She stood up, clutching the letter in her hand and walked away.

"Nimwe! Your break-." Cassandra was stopped by Niall.

"Let her go. She isn't feeling hungry anymore."

The four friends looked at each other, sighed and continued their breakfast.

Nimwe did her homework in a robotic mode. It was sloppy, short and rushed, because all she could think about was the letter Maeve had sent. She did know what to do and in the evening she ended up writing Charlie. He might know how her mother's last name was and he would know what she should do with the letter. She ripped off a piece of parchment from her Transfiguration essay, dipped her quill into the ink and wrote a quick letter.

Just explaining about the letter and asking if Charlie knew if Maeve Emrys was really her mother. She included that she was fine and that school went well. When she finished it, she left the Common Room and walked to the Owlery, where Gwyndion immediately flew to her and voluntarily extracted her paw. Nimwe bound the letter to it and gave her owl a small pat.

"Please find him quickly." The owl hooted once and then took off into the darkening sky.

Nimwe followed her to the window and leaned with her elbows on the bottom of the frame. There was not glass in the windows, so the wind was sweeping into her face, cooling down her face and for the first time that day she could relax a bit.

The letter had been a bomb to her. This sudden information changed her life. Even if the woman was lying about her identity, it had made Nimwe curious to her roots. She was now used to her magic, doing magic was second nature to her and she enjoyed it. Still there was this question that stayed in the back of her head: where did her magic come from? Of course there was this theory of inheriting from one of her parents, presumably her mother, but no one knew about her and there were no records of it, so Nimwe had dismissed it. Her theory was that she was a rare mutation, a weird trick of Mother Nature.

Nimwe stared into the distance, not really seeing what she was looking at. Just feeling the wind and let her thoughts wander.

She was shaken out of them by approaching footsteps on the stone stairs to the owlery. She turned around and saw the door opening slowly, soon revealing the scrawny James with his messy jet-black hair. He looked surprised when he noticed that he was not alone in the owlery.

"Hey," they said at the same time. James grinned. "You just sent your letter?"

Nimwe nodded. "Yeah, I just have to keep in touch with Charlie."

James waved with the letter in his hand. "Don't want the elders to worry about us." He looked around, just when a snowy owl came flying to him. The owl, named Shannon, was shared by the Potter siblings and she landed on James' left shoulder. He patted her head and tied the letter to her extended paw. He carried her to the window, where Nimwe still was and threw Shannon in the air. The white owl was soon out of their sight.

The two stood shoulder to shoulder, staring at the darkness before them. Nimwe began making circles with her right index finger, causing some sparks to appear. James looked at it with interest.

"How's everything going?" he asked.

"Just fine." Nimwe said, not looking at James. "You?"

"Oh, you know. Letting everything happen."

"And causing some chaos."

"Of course," James said easily. He turned his head to look at Nimwe. "So, what's the deal with the new kid?"

Nimwe looked back. "You mean Niall?" James nodded. "He's fourteen, but he used to travel the world with his parents and his sister, like Rolf and Luna do now. He got some education, but his parents wanted them to go to a normal school. Burnewood would not allow him to start in fourth year, so that's why he's with us."

"Is he a nice bloke?"

Nimwe nodded. "He's full of interesting stories. I met him once before in Romania in the summer when I was out camping with my Dad." She looked forward again. "He's the same as then: full of energy and wanting to explore anything. He's having difficulty now sitting in a classroom the whole day. It's funny: sometimes it's a competition between Cassandra and Niall: who has the most energy at the moment? It's never boring with those two."

"Oh, but for fun you can always come to me."

Nimwe chuckled. "And then what? Wondering through the castle for a prank, seeing Bran coming up with the worst pick-up lines ever or getting reprimanded by one of the teachers every hour?"

"You forget having fun, Nimwe." James grinned and looked forward again. The two were silent for a moment. It was a comfortable silence and it surprised Nimwe a little, because silence and James was a very unusual combination.

The silence was short, because someone approached the owlery via the stone stairs. James pushed himself away from the window, stretched his arms shortly above his head and then turned to the door where a Ravenclaw student now entered the owlery.

"Hello, Pete," James greeted the boy and walked to the door. Nimwe hesitated for a moment, but decided that she would follow James. It was getting cold without any windows. She tightened the vest around her and followed James' footsteps.

Back in the Common Room she gathered her stuff, said goodnight to her friends and then went to the girls' dormitory. She had hoped that sleep would find her soon, but the opposite was true: Nimwe heard Cassandra, Jade and Sharada go to bed and even than it was at least one hour before her eyes closed: the letter kept coming back in her thoughts and later in her dreams.

On Monday morning Nimwe felt as though she had not slept the hours she had. She did not eat much and kept looking up to see if Gwyndion had returned with an answer. The owl did not.

Nimwe kept having a nervous feeling in her stomach all day. It was harder for her to concentrate in the lesson and though Professor Binns of History of Magic did not notice, Professor Longbottom in Herbology did.

"Miss la Faye, I would appreciate it if you would give more attention to your Walkin. It's walking away at the moment." Nimwe looked shocked at the professor and then around the desk. She discovered her purple and blue plant on the ground where it ran to a desk with a Walkin with the same colours and a yellow flower on the head. It was clear in the plant's movements that he was trying to flirt with the one on the table, that Padric Branagh from Ravenclaw tried to restrain from running away to her suitor.

Nimwe hastened forward and scooped the suitor from the ground, although he clearly did not agree. It earned her a slap in the face and the rest of the lesson he tried and succeeded to make it as difficult for her as possible.

It was Scorpius who decided that someone needed to talk to Nimwe. He cornered her in the Common Room after diner in the Great Hall.

"Are you worried?" he asked.

Nimwe looked up startled. In her hands was her Transfiguration book that she was pretending to read. Instead she was playing the letter over and over in her head. "About what?"

Scorpius looked at her with one eyebrow raised. He also had his Transfiguration book in his hands, however his was closed.

"Nimwe, you've been absentminded since you got that letter from your mother. So are you worried, bothered, what are you?"

Nimwe looked down at her book, thought for a moment and then sighed. "I don't know. I have this nervous feeling in my stomach all day long. I don't know what to do with Maeve's letter. I am really waiting for Charlie to write back." She looked out of the windows as if Gwyndion could come to her any minute.

"Are you waiting for Charlie's letter, because you want to be sure that that Maeve is your biological mother, or do you want him to tell you what to do?"

Nimwe bit her lip, knowing what he meant and knowing that she would disappoint him. "I really need his advice."

Scorpius leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Then why are you feeling so nervous?"

She opened her mouth a few times, trying to give an answer, but she could not do that.

"Want to know what I think?" Scorpius asked. Nimwe nodded. "I think you know what you want to do with the letter, when Charlie confirms Maeve's identity. You don't need his advice, do you? You want his confirmation and his encouragement, but you don't need his advice."

It was silent for a moment. "You know, Scorpius, you are too wise for your age," Nimwe said, leaning back and looking at her friend with fondness.

"I know," he said smugly, "but don't change the subject now."

"I want to keep contact. I'm curious for her magic if it really is alike mine. On the other hand she left us. She never contacted me until now." She rubbed with both hands in her eyes. "I want to write to her, but I feel conflicted about it."

"I understand, but I think you should write back, because it is obvious that is what you want."

"I will write her," Nimwe said, more confident of herself. "However, I will wait for Charlie's answer. Just to be sure that it's her."

"Good. Smart girl," Scorpius said teasingly.

Nimwe laughed. "Don't be too smug, just because I paid you a compliment. I remember last week when your Giggle spell bounced back right at you."

Scorpius laughed. "But still, it was a great spell."

"Yeah, you just need to work on your aim, that's all."

Nimwe tried to back away with her legs, when the boy tried to hit her with his Transfiguration book and kicked a little when he was coming to close. Scorpius jumped up and then chased her around the armchair and the couch, both laughing and Nimwe running for her life.

Nimwe had the same nervous feeling the next morning at breakfast. This time it flared up when Gwyndion landed before her plate and presented a claw with a letter. Nimwe ripped it off and did not even compliment or feed her owl, but read the letter instead. Albus, being the kind one, offered the owl a piece of his toast, which she took after a small hoot. Albus, Cassandra, Scorpius and Niall all looked with interest at the expressions that Nimwe made. It was one of the longer letters Charlie had written to her.

_Dear Nimwe,_

_I have to admit, your letter was a big shock for me. I read it twice before believing you. Now what you wanted to know: yes, I believe this Maeve Emrys is your mother. I remembered she had an unusual surname and this name rung a bell. So, what are you going to do?_

_As your godfather I will give you some advice, but do what you want to do, I'll have your back. I think you should write her. I know you, you are curious. If you want any explanation about why she abandoned you and Conor, ask her. Don't go easy on her: you deserve an explanation. _

_What struck me the most about what you told me about the letter was the fact that she mentioned her magic being the same as yours. If this is true, this could be so important for your development. When she gives you more information about this, go to Neville. As he is the one that helps you, he should know about this. Okay? _

_Please keep me posted about how everything is going and keep doing your best at school. I know you can be distracted with things that are huge, but you still have to keep up your grades._

_Love Charlie_

Nimwe smiled relieved and read the letter again. Then she looked at her friends and said: "Maeve is my biological mother. Charlie says it in his letter."

"Great," Cassandra said, smiling big and Niall gave her a small painless pinch in the arm.

"So, are you going to write to Maeve?" Albus asked.

"Yes," Nimwe said without a doubt. Now that she had received Charlie's letter and consent, she knew what she wanted to do: to get to know her mother.

Scorpius smiled like he had known all along and Cassandra clapped shortly in her hands and opened her mouth to say something, but Niall was the one to beat her: "Maeve left you, why do you want to know her?"

Nimwe looked at him and thought for a moment before answering. "I don't like her for doing that, but she is my blood. I want to know if there are things that I inherited from her and I want to know why she left Dad and me. I have questions and she is the only one that can answer them."

Niall nodded. "Okay, I think I understand. None of us know how it is like to be in your situation, but you know that we can always help you, right?"

"Right," Nimwe said and she smiled at her friends. They finished their breakfast and went to the Gryffindor Tower to get their books for the day. They were walking to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, when Scorpius slowed Nimwe down by grabbing her arm.

She looked at him questioningly, while he seemed to be struggling with his words. "Nimwe, I'm glad for you, I really am, but I feel you need to be careful. Maeve left and hurt you once, she can do it twice."

Nimwe looked at him with surprise and suddenly she felt angry. "You don't know what happened when I was born. You say you are glad for me and give me advice and now you warn me? What's that? I can look out for myself, thank you very much. She wrote to me, while she could have just kept low and never let me know she existed. I'll handle this, don't you worry." She yanked her arm away and almost run away from Scorpius, who was still in the middle of the corridor, looking somewhat flabbergasted and pained by the outburst of his friend.


	13. Letters to Nimwe

*******Falls on her knees * Please forgive me for making you wait so long for the next chapter. I'm in the middle of this story and it is getting hard at this moment. I know where I want to go with this story, but I have to write the journey to it properly and I find it hard. It's almost a writer's block. So please forgive me!**

**I hope you like the chapter and that you are as eager as I am to know how this story will go. **

**Please leave a review. I appreciate both bad as good comments, as long as I can learn from them.**

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**Chapter 13: Letters to Nimwe**

Nimwe ignored Scorpius the whole day and Scorpius did not try to reconcile. Cassandra, Albus and Niall noticed, but when Cassandra asked Nimwe about it, she got a not satisfying answer and she did not push further. In the end, the three decided that they would not interfere and that Nimwe and Scorpius would handle it themselves.

After the lessons Scorpius retreated himself in the library, pulling Albus along and Nimwe, Cassandra and Niall went to the Gryffindor Common Room to do their homework. Before Nimwe started, she began to write the letter to Maeve, which proved to be difficult to write.

She sat cross-legged in the puffy armchair with parchment on her right knee and a quill in her hand. She had written _Dear Maeve_, but now she was struggling with the opening sentence. At the moment Niall and Cassandra were not much of a help, because they were distracting each other from their homework: Cassandra was drawing silly things on Niall's parchment and Niall was tickling Cassandra with his quill in return.

Nimwe began to become annoyed with her two friends and with herself. She was distracted by the noise Niall and Cassandra made and she was annoyed with herself, because she could not produce a normal letter. At a time like this Cassandra and Niall were not the best people to be with, so Nimwe wanted to get out of the Common Room and join Albus and Scorpius in the library, but then she remembered Scorpius' opinion on the matter. With a sigh she leaned back: she could not go to the library, because she did not want to write it with the help of Scorpius at the moment, though Albus would be a good help.

She tried to tune Cassandra and Niall out and just think about the letters. What was what she wanted to ask Maeve? Was it better to dose the questions evenly, so Maeve would not be overwhelmed or should she write every question she had into the letter so she would not forget one?

She looked again at the parchment and then began to write.

_Dear Maeve,_

_Thank you for your letter. I was quite shocked when I read it to be honest. But I am glad you wrote it, thank you. _

_Please tell me about your magic. What do you mean I have inherited your magic? Do you magick without a wand too? The professors told me there is not a known witch or wizard that has the same magic as I do, so I am curious about that. Please tell me everything you know about it._

Nimwe read the letter again. She frowned; was this letter maybe too direct or should she ask about the flight of Maeve and how should she finish the letter?

She tickled herself slightly with her quill and then decided that the letter could not be better. She wrote _Best regards _with her name and then folded it. She looked around the Common Room; Niall and Cassandra were still busy with each other, students were doing their homework and somewhere on the other end of the room a prefect was scolding The Marauders part II. All four boys were looking at her with looks that were bordering to arrogance and Bran was eyeing her from head to toe. All in all, nothing new about those fourth years.

Nimwe decided that she first would finish some homework and after that she would go to the Owlery and send Gwyndion with the letter. She heaved her bag, which was full with books, parchment and gloves, on her lap and got her Charms book and new parchment out of it. She put her bag on the ground again, curled up in the armchair and opened her book to the chapter with Cheering Charms. Professor Flitwick had given a two-part assignment about the Charm: the preparation, which Nimwe was about to do and the conclusions after the performance of the Cheering Charm, which would be done in the lesson tomorrow. Nimwe was already looking forward to it.

She read the chapter, took notes, remembered the steps and the spells and after Charms she started with Care for Magical Creatures where they were studying Diricawls: a flightless bird Muggles believed to be extinct, due to its habit to change into feathers when in danger. Jack, being a Muggleborn, could not believe his eyes when he saw, what he called, a dodo and had to be stopped from writing to his parents with the news that the Muggles had not exterminated the bird.

Nimwe chuckled in herself remembering, while she finished the essay about the food a Diricawl ate. She put the book, parchment, quill and ink back into her bag and stood up. Niall and Cassandra were now helping each other with their homework, instead of preventing the other of finishing it and The Marauders part II were for their doing quiet. Nimwe went up the stairs to her dormitory, dropped her bag their, combed her hair quickly and then took her letter for Maeve. She went down again, said where she was going to Cassandra and left the Common Room quickly. On the other side of the painting of the Fat Lady it seemed suddenly very quiet after the noise in the Gryffindor Tower. Nimwe walked to the Owlery without any rush, just easily and on her way she looked at the different paintings that hang on the old walls of the Hogwarts castle. In her first year she had looked her eyes out with the hundreds of paintings that Hogwarts harboured and now, after two years, she had gotten used to the massiveness of their numbers and now she could appreciate each painting as an individual. Each had its own style, theme and personality.

She stood still for a moment in front of a romantic painting with a couple on a massive ship and a wild sea, when she heard footsteps approaching. She did not look who they belonged to, but walked on. She did not want to be looked at or asked any questions, because she was looking at a painting: something students did not tend to do.

She approached a split in the corridor and she looked automatically left for a moment, before turning right. On her left she saw two boys walking: Albus and Scorpius had left the library and were now walking to the Gryffindor Tower. Nimwe immediately got this nervous feeling in her stomach when she saw the blonde boy. She froze for a moment: not knowing what to do. Also Scorpius froze and stared at her. It was a short, but painful and awkward moment. Albus stood now on the side, closer to Scorpius than to Nimwe. He decided to ignore the tension and smiled at Nimwe. "Where are you heading on your own?"

Nimwe showed him the letter. "Just going to the Owlery with my letter to Maeve," she said softly, only looking into Albus' green eyes, ignoring Scorpius grey ones.

"Wow." Albus was silent for a moment. "Must have been hard to write."

Nimwe smiled at him affectionately. He knew her well after five years. "I struggled. Cassandra and Niall were not much of a help really."

"You could have come to me," Albus said, stepping closer to her. "I would have gladly helped."

"I know." Nimwe touched his arm lightly. "But this was something I had to do for myself, I think."

Albus nodded.

Scorpius, who had been silent up till now, stepped forward and cleared his throat. "You – uhm – I – uhm…" He looked to his side and Nimwe lobbed her head a little while looking expectantly at him. Albus looked at his friend with some surprise, because Scorpius was not known for his bad communication skills. Scorpius Malfoy always had something to say: he was never at a loss for words, except now.

"Yes, Scorpius?" Nimwe said, encouraging him to go on, without any anger in her voice.

"I'm going back to the Gryffindor Tower," he said. Albus and Nimwe looked surprised at him and even Scorpius looked as though he had not meant to say those words. He stood there for a moment, but then did as he had said and walked away. Albus and Nimwe looked at each other: Albus shrugged his shoulder and Nimwe was looking slightly angry. This was not what she had expected.

"Oi!" She yelled at the back of Scorpius. "What's that about?"

He turned around, looking guilty. "What do you mean?"

Nimwe strode to him, Albus closely behind her and looked Scorpius right in the eyes. "Don't try that ignorance on me. You wanted to say something, but you didn't and now you are walking away. What's that about?"

Scorpius did not think about an answer: "I don't know if you want to talk to me."

"Well, I do," Nimwe said in a friendlier tone than before. "I don't like not talking to you, even though you don't agree with my correspondence with Maeve."

"I do agree," Scorpius said. "I just want you to be careful. I don't want you to be hurt again."

"It's just writing letters."

"Yes, to your mother you've never known because she left you. It's a big deal." Scorpius paused for a moment, looking at Nimwe's face to see her reaction. Nimwe did not know what to say. It was clear that Scorpius had her best interest at heart and she appreciated it, but still, the fact he was negative about it hurt her.

"Fact is," Scorpius continued, "that it's your decision. I think you should write her, but be careful at the same time."

Nimwe saw honesty in his eyes and nodded. She could not deny that she was a little afraid of writing to Maeve; her biological mother who did not want to know her until now. "Okay, I will. I will go to the Owlery know, or Gwyndion will have left already to hunt."

"We'll go with you," Albus said. He had this gift of being unnoticed when needed to, but always appearing again and sometimes startling the ones in his environment.

"No, I'll go alone. You just go to the Tower; your bags must be heavy. I'll be back in a short time." She already walked slowly backwards to indicate she would go alone.

"You're sure?" Scorpius asked. Nimwe nodded and waved them away.

"I'll see you in a bit," and the girl turned around and walked away.

"You know you haven't said sorry," Albus said lightly, when he and Scorpius walked to the Gryffindor Common Room.

Scorpius looked surprised at his friend. "Really?"

"Really." Albus shrugged. "Don't worry, we're used to it."

Scorpius was speechless again. It was true what Albus said: Scorpius was not used to apologising: it was not the way he was raised. His father, Draco Malfoy, who was raised in strict and Dark Arts loving environment, had tried to raise Scorpius a little differently. However, some habits were given from father to son and not able to apologise was one of them.

_Dear Nimwe,_

_Thank you for writing back to me. You don't know how happy I was when I read your letter. _

_About your questions in your letter: yes, I can perform magic without a wand. It's a natural gift, just like yours, but I did not use it when I discovered it. When I was eleven, I bought a wand and learned to be a witch with a wand. In my time it was not a known gift and my parents thought it was dangerous to let people know what I could do. It were dangerous times and everything unordinary was watched with suspicion, so I chose to adapt and blend into the crowd. _

_I've just recently starting doing magic without a wand and it feels freeing and awkward, because I am not used to it._

_So I cannot tell you much about the use of it, but I can tell you that it's a family thing. It can skip a generation, maybe too, but it always resurfaces. We can't get rid of it. It is in the bloodline of my mother and she inherited from her mother, but also men are able to inherit the gene. _

_How are you, Nimwe? How is Conor? Has he married a lovely woman or did his dragons occupy him too much? How is your education going? I hope you are doing well and that you have made lots of friends. _

_I am looking forward to knowing you better._

_Maeve_

Nimwe sat in the History classroom with Professor Binn's monotone story about the Twelve Year War in the Middle Ages, when she read the return letter of Maeve. The last paragraph created a lump in her throat and she had to breath in and out to remain calm.

Cassandra bent over to her to peek in the letter.

"Letter from Maeve," Nimwe said, holding the letter away. "She doesn't know my father died."

"Ouch. Well, you'll have to tell her."

Nimwe sighed. "I know," she whispered. "It's just, how do you do that?"

"Just say it straight: no confusion or whatsoever when she reads the letter."

Nimwe looked doubtful at her friend. "Isn't that a little too straightforward?"

"Well, I think she would appreciate it if you were careful with your vocabulary; so don't write: my father is dead, but more like: my father passed away a few years ago after a dragon hit him with his tail." Her tone was light, but Nimwe knew she was serious.

"Good sentence, thank you."

"You're welcome. I can be of some help sometimes, you know."

"No, she can't," whispered Niall from behind the girls. Cassandra turned around, smacked him on the head and sat right back again. Niall protested, but Cassandra pretended to not have heard him. Nimwe watched it with a smile: Niall and Cassandra had a funny relationship in which they mostly teased each other.

"This weekend is our first visit to Hogsmeade!" Cassandra whispered excited, which could also be read from Nimwe's face.

"I know! James and Fred have made me so jealous with their stories. I want to go to the Shrieking Shack, to Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks."

Cassandra sighed dreamily. "Honeydukes. I heard they have heavenly chocolate."

"Chocolate." Nimwe also sighed.

"Who needs more?"

"I don't."

"Not even me?" Niall again.

"Especially not you, Niall," Cassandra said, just giving him a small glance and turning her attention back on Nimwe. "Let's make it a girl's day out." Her eyes began to shine. "No boys, just us, chocolate and shopping."

Nimwe grinned too. "Sounds good to me."

"But, but," Niall began to whine, but Cassandra did not even turn around again. Professor Binns seemed not to hear the conversation in the class and was still telling a monotonously story, giving his students the opportunity to keep talking.

"We'll leave at ten and return for dinner," Nimwe decided.

"That's a plan. We haven't had a girl's day since… when?" Cassandra asked.

Nimwe laughed. "This summer when I visited you."

"Right! Ages ago!"

The weather was pleasant when Nimwe and Cassandra were walking the path to Hogsmeade. They were in the middle of the long crowd of students that were allowed to go to the village and none of them were in a hurry, so slowly but surely they reached their destination.

Nimwe and Cassandra stood at the side, looking around and discussing where to go first.

"I say, Honeydukes last: keep the best for last," suggested Nimwe and she added when she saw Cassandra's disappointed face, "and when we buy a lot, we don't have to carry it around all day."

"Fine, but we will go soon to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

"Good. Maybe George will be there. First the Post Office." The two girls set off.

At the Post Office they saw hundreds of owls in every shape, colour and size as possible, each for different distances and mail. The owner, a balding man, had cast a spell so the hooting would not make his customers deaf, for which they were thankful.

Nimwe and Cassandra left the Post Office and walked down the street to the Shrieking Shack. Although they had discussed a little about their day, they did not have a concrete plan: only that Honeydukes would be saved for last.

The two walked passed the shops until they were just outside the village and were standing by the fence, several meters away from the Shrieking Shack. Cassandra leaned against the wooden fence examining the building that was slightly in ruins.

"When does it shriek?"

"Not during the day I think. Imagine when it happens now! You would freak out."

Cassandra sniffed. "At first, but then I would go inside to examine it." Her eyes were glistering thinking of the prospect of investigating it.

"Sure you would, but not today. I begged the Shack to stay quiet for today."

Cassandra chuckled. "Wise decision. I would not have resisted a scream coming from a building."

Nimwe laughed too. "I know that. That's why I am going to pull you with now so we can go to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes." She grabbed Cassandra's hand and pulled her without resistance along.

The brightly coloured shop, which resembled its head quarters at Diagon Alley a lot, was packed with Hogwarts students from all houses and years. Through the window Nimwe saw Albus, Scorpius, Niall and Jack examining the candies to skip class and inside the shop she almost walked into James, who was visiting the shop together with the other Marauders part II: Fred, Bran and Ryan.

"Wow, pretty lady, keep standing on your feet. We don't want your face to be trapped on by dirty shoes."

"Thank you, Bran." Nimwe looked with an amusing smile at the brunet. She had long ago learned to not take him seriously, especially not when he was in flirting mode. "How are you guys doing?"

"Extremely well," Ryan replied, showing her his bright white teeth. "We have just invested in some good products to keep our names high."

Fred elbowed his friends. "Don't say too much, mate."

"Oh, come on, Fred," Bran said while laying an arm across Nimwe's shoulders. "She won't tell on us, right, Nimwe?"

"Right," she said with a mysterious smile. "As long as you don't use it against me."

"Never!" James exclaimed, now with his hands full with some fireworks. "I don't fancy Grans yelling at me."

"It's good to know you let me be for your own sake."

"Hey, just appreciate it," James smiled and then left of to the cash register with the rest of his friends. A long line had formed: the boys would be standing there for a long time.

Now it was Cassandra who pulled the other to the shelves on the right side of the shop. "Look! Love potions."

The bottles were small and pink smoke appeared from behind them: enhancing the girly and mysterious atmosphere.  
Cassandra and Nimwe looked at each other and giggled a little, feeling more girlish than normal.

"I think it would be funny to see their effect on a boy," Cassandra said.

"Oh," Nimwe said teasingly. "Got someone on your mind?"

"Might," her friend replied, but that was all she said.

Nimwe narrowed her eyes for a bit: trying to read her friend, but it was clear that her friend did not want to be read or interrogated. "Ron, Rose's father, has once drank a love potion, without him knowing."

"Really?" Cassandra laughed. "What happened?"

"He was completely out of his mind. Suddenly in love with this girl that actually wanted Harry, Albus' Dad, to be in love with her. Kept saying he was in love with her, but they had never spoken to each other! He even hit Harry when Harry said it was a joke. One of the Christmas stories told after a delicious meal Molly made."

"I don't know if I want to put the friend of the boy in any danger."

"Just don't do it. He'll fall in love with you."

"You don't even know who it is!"

"Ha," Nimwe said a little triumphantly. "So there is someone!"

Cassandra hid her face shortly in her face, groaned and shook her head. "Fine, there is someone," she said when she resurfaced again. "But I won't tell you here and now who." She looked around at the crowded shop. "Nobody has to know. Especially _not _him."

"Okay," Nimwe said, looking shortly into Cassandra's eyes and then looked around again. "Let's walk around some more. There is so much in this shop!"

Nimwe saw George when she was in front of the line to pay for the Smart-Answer Quill and Cassandra for the blue Pygmy Puff (George had bred them in all colours of the rainbow now).

"Hey, Nimwe, how are you?" He said while inserting the price in the ancient cashier.

"Fine. You're working here because it is Hogsmeade weekend?"

"Yep, gotta earn my money." He leaned forward a little across the desk and half-whispered; "don't tell Ange that I sold what I sold to the boys," He was clearly referring to his son and companions. "I would appreciate a calm and collected wife, you know."

"I promise I won't."

"Good girl. Well have a nice day and I'll see you at Christmas?" George gave her a wink and then turned to the next student in line. Nimwe waved shortly and pulled Cassandra along to exit the shop.

Outside Cassandra sighed in contentment. "You just have to love this shop."

Nimwe nodded as the two walked further. The girls visited the clothing shop, the bookshop and the equipment shop before stopping by the Three Broomsticks to have a drink and something to eat.

The pub was packed with Hogwarts teachers and students and witches and wizard that were also visiting the all-magical village. They slowly made their way to the bar. On their way they spotted Albus, Scorpius, Niall and Jack, who began to wave when they spotted the girls. Niall pointed to the seat next to him with a big grin.

Nimwe looked at Cassandra, who looked back with defeat.

Cassandra said in her ear: "I'll get some butterbeer and cake, you go to the boys."

Nimwe nodded and the two split.

"Hello boys," she said when she reached the table. She sat down on the chair next to Niall and smiled at them.

"Hey Nimwe. How are you?" Albus asked.

"Good." Nimwe answered. "How are you doing? Enjoying your day of freedom?"

"Absolutely," Jack said with his big smile. "I like this place. Butterbeer is delicious!"

The friends laughed. Jack was not used to this, as he was a muggleborn. He was still discovering things, though he downplayed his enthusiasm and surprise now that he was older.

"Say, Nimwe," Niall said in his teasing voice as if he knew something she did not, "was today not supposed to be, and I quote," Nimwe sighed already amusingly at the formulation of his sentence, "A girl's day out?"

"Absolutely! But you are the ones with empty chairs, so we're just having a convenient break from our girl's day out," Nimwe responded immediately. She looked around a little more. At the bar it was crowded with people who wanted to order a drink and the owner, Madame Rosmerta, a curvy woman with her brown curly hair in a loose bun, was walking around behind the counter fast to satisfy her customers. Nimwe also spotted Cassandra who had just attracted the attention of a black haired man, though she could not see clearly what his face was like.

She turned around to her companions again. "So, what have you been doing today?"

Scorpius shrugged, playing it cool. "Just walking around, visiting some shops, you know."

"I saw you at the Weasley shop."

Four pairs of eyes lit up immediately.

"Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes…" Albus began.

"Is just heaven on earth," Niall finished. "If I had only known this shop before this summer…" He shook his head thinking of the time he lost travelling around that he could have spent in the Weasley joke shop.

All eyes, except Nimwe's, glazed over and there was silence.

Cassandra was holding two steins and a plate with some Cauldron Cakes when she approached the table after some twisting and turning through the busy pub. She set them on the table with a big smile on her face. "Nimwe, these cupcakes just smell delicious!"

"Good," Nimwe said, "because I'm craving for some good stuff."

Cassandra nodded and sat down on the bench next to Jack. She looked at the boys and opened her mouth to greet them, but looked instead confused due to their glazy expressions. She looked back at Nimwe, who was laughing, and pointed at the boys with her thumb. "What's wrong with them?"

"Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. They're in love."

"Ah," Cassandra said as it explained everything and she grabbed a cupcake and her stein with butterbeer. "Cheers," she said ticking it against Nimwe's, who also said "Cheers".

The boys woke up from their trance and blinked their eyes a few times before they could see the world clearly again.

"Hey, boys." Cassandra said to greet them. "Didn't want to wake you up."

Scorpius' and Albus' cheeks flooded with red and Jack grinned stupidly, but Niall just shrugged and stole a piece of Cassandra's cake, earning himself a smack.

Nimwe ate quietly her cake and drank her butterbeer, while listening to the conversation at the table. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was discussed into the tiniest detail with all the love the boys could manage for the joke shop. Especially the skipping-class-products were fully appreciated: Niall had bought a survival kit and Jack had bought a year supply of Fainting Fancy.

Nimwe leaned back and heard behind her two men discussing the Daily Prophet of that day.

"… four fires on one day. All had the same pattern, however no-one saw how it was started."

A deep voice asked: "No messages or whatsoever?"

"Nothing," answered the first voice, which lisped slightly. "Ministry does not know where to look, I heard from my friend there. They are hoping it was a one time occasion."

"Let's hope so. I heard the families have no home anymore."

There was a moment of silence when the men thought about it.

Nimwe brought her attention back to her friends, who were now discussing the Shrieking Shack: Niall was eager to explore it together with Cassandra. His sense of adventure had been lit again. Cassandra and Niall discussed what the Shack could be harbouring. It varied from a werewolf to a Banshee to a ghost. Every creature they mentioned made Jack shiver but did nothing to Nimwe, Albus and Scorpius. The three leaned to each other to have a conversation for their own. The news about the four fires was bugging Nimwe, so she asked about it.

Scorpius shrugged, but Albus answered: "I heard it at breakfast. Mysterious fires on the houses of Ministry workers."

"They worked for the Ministry?" Nimwe asked wide-eyed.

"Yep, though that's all they have in common. They did not even work in the same departments and they were spread over the country."

"Odd," Scorpius said with wrinkle on his forehead. "Has it happened before?"

"No, this is the first time. If it had been just one fire, it could have been some prank that went to far." Albus said. "But this. Four fires on one day, all Ministry workers, this can't be good."

Nimwe looked concerned. "How about your familiy? Harry is a very well known Auror."

Albus looked down for a moment. Worry was to be read in his eyes. "I know, but Dad's good. He and Mum will be fine. Lily and James are here at school and here nothing bad will happen. Just don't say something to Lily about it; I don't want her to worry."

Nimwe nodded. She wanted to say something, when Cassandra stood up from the table and pulled Nimwe along. "Come, we have to go to Honeydukes."

Nimwe looked apologetic at Albus and Scorpius. "Sorry, got to go. See you at dinner!" And the girls were gone.

What Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was for the boys, was the chocolate department in Honeydukes for the girls. At first they could only look at the chocolate and smell it, without reading what kind of chocolate it precisely was. It did not matter. It was Walhalla.

"Cassandra, if I died here and now, I would be a happy woman," Nimwe sighed, not taking her eyes off the chocolate.

"You would be even happier if you tasted the chocolate," Cassandra said. Both felt that they were almost drooling.

The girls looked at each other with mischievous smiles. "Let's buy some chocolate!" And with an almost primal roar they pounced upon their prey.

_Dear Nimwe,_

_I'm so sorry to hear that Conor passed away. I'd always thought that he would grow old and grey and still working with dragons._

_I've met Charlie once or twice and he was a kind man, so I'm glad you're in good hands. It must be hard for a young girl to miss her father and her mother. The last bit is entirely my fault._

_It's good to hear you're doing well at school and have found your place their. Your friends sound nice; I hope I can meet you and them one time._

_Fear for your magic will always exist. What people don't know frightens them. Muggles burned witches and magical people outcast those with an unusual magic. Sometimes you have to fight fire with fire. Don't let them get you down._

_About my reasons to leave your father and you thirteen years ago: I don't want to discuss them over a letter. Let's write each other more and meet in a few months time. But only if you are willing._

_Maeve_


	14. Family Is All Around

**Chapter 14 and again my schedule failed. I apologise, like I've been doing for the last few chapters. **

**So, about my schedule: I'm going on a holiday this Wednesday and I will return eight days later. This means that I probably won't post a new chapter for at least two weeks. I will submit a new chapter as soon as I am back and I've typed it out. My pen, paper and file with all the information about Painting Nimwe will come with me to Spain, so I'm hoping for lots of inspiration and lots of sentences and paragraphs. **

**Everyone, have a nice summer and please review with your thoughts about this chapter or the story overall!**

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**Chapter 14: Family is all around**

The classroom was filled with yellow, white and grey birds and Nimwe was just transfiguring the last whistle into a bird to accompany the others. She looked how he flew up and began to fly in circles above her head. She turned to the two teachers who were sitting in identical poses with their arms crossed and their right ankle lying on their left leg. Professor Longbottom, who was always present at the private lesson, was nodding approvingly and Professor Blevins of Transfiguration wrote something on the long piece of parchment he was holding.

When he was done, he said in his soft, shy voice: "It seems this spell requires some movement on your half, like you are pulling the bird out of the whistle. Now you are on the same page as everyone."

Nimwe nodded. "Sir, does this mean that I have to do it like that more often when the normal process doesn't work?"

Blevins looked shortly at her, almost as if he did not expect her to talk to him and looked back at his notes. "Yes, I think so. It's a logical movement and you have mentioned that it feels right when you do it."

"Good," Longbottom said, standing up. "Nimwe, were there other spells you've encountered that proved to be difficult for you?"

"No," Nimwe said. She paused for a second and then talked about something else "Maeve has written to me and she found out that both men and women can inherit my magic. The father of her grandmother possessed it too. She pointed out something interesting." She walked to her bag, took out a piece of parchment and read from it: "I never thought about it until now. I don't know if the magic follows only one family line or that more children can inherit it. I was an only child, so was my mother and her mother. I do not know about my grandmother's father though.

"It's possible that the magic can't split, maybe as a mean to keep it strong or to keep it unique. It would be interesting to investigate."

Nimwe looked at the professors. Longbottom was nodding thoughtfully, while Blevins said: "Interesting indeed. It would almost be the same questions as with Muggle-borns: how do they get it and how does it spread? Some Muggle-borns have brothers and sisters that are also magical, but some have siblings that remain Muggles. There has been a lot of research and the answer has still not been found. I think this is something to write up and keep a close look at and maybe find the answer along the way."

Blevins looked down again after his explanation of how his view on the matter was. Nimwe was almost speechless that Blevins said this much on a subject that had nothing to do with Transfiguration. Even in class he tried to say as little as possible.

"I agree with professor Blevins," Longbottom said. "It's useful information, but at the moment, we can't use it. Keep asking Maeve for information, talk about your magic with her, exchange more experiences. She could tell you how to do a spell more effectively."

Nimwe nodded understandingly. "I know, we have been writing for two months now and I understand my magic a bit better. Like that just pointing with my finger is for the more specific spell on a specific object, like in Charms and Transfiguration, but that an open hand or two can be more effective in Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Exactly. We should discuss that more after the Christmas holiday. Try out some spells in different ways and look how it is more effective for you." Professor Longbottom grabbed his bag, asked for the notes from Blevins and then bid his colleague and his student farewell.

Blevins seemed to be stunned for a moment and messed his thin mousy hair, before he seemed to remember that this had been his cue to go. He also got his old teacher's bag, mumbled goodbye to Nimwe and left the classroom to go to his own residence.

The girl chuckled shortly and also left the classroom, looking forward to the next day when she would go home for the holidays.

It was a few days before Christmas and the grounds were covered in ice, as the rain had fallen this night and had frozen over in the low temperatures in the Highlands. Hogwarts had been decorated in green, red, gold, Christmas trees and mistletoe, the latter making many students giggle unless they were the ones that stood underneath the mistletoe with someone they would rather punch than kiss.

It had happened to Cassandra the other day. They had been waiting in front of the temporary classroom of Care for Magical Creatures, when suddenly Fred, who had been just passing by, yelled: "Hey Cassandra! I think you should give Frye a kiss!" Ryan had made the kissing sounds to draw extra attention to the fact that according to the law of mistletoe Cassandra now had to kiss the skinny, annoying Slytherin Allard Frye. Both had looked with disgust at each other and it was clear that none of them would lock lips with the other.

"Shut up, Weasley!" Cassandra yelled after the redhead, who could not stop laughing. "If you want to keep the tradition intact, come over here and kiss Frye yourself!"

Fred stopped, turned around at the same moment as Ryan, both with the same grin and walked back. "Cassandra, Cassandra, don't disregard the mistletoe like that. It's Christmas!"

Cassandra put her hands on her hips. "Like I said, you kiss him then when you find the mistletoe so important."

Frye, still with disgust written all over his bony face, was backing away and left Cassandra alone under the mistletoe.

Fred's eyes lit up and Nimwe recognised it: he had a plan. She just hoped it would not be awful.

"Why don't _you_ kiss me?" Fred suggested and he took another step forward. Now Cassandra and he were under the mistletoe, which Cassandra at the moment was wishing to hell.

Nimwe's mouth fell open and she heard Scorpius, Albus or Niall hiss at the proposal. She could not hear which one it was. There had been some talking going on, but that was now over. The Slytherins were watching Cassandra and Fred with feigned boredom and the Gryffindors were shocked, but interested. Ryan was just laughing at his friend's boldness.

Cassandra's eyes narrowed for a moment, but then took a step forward, throwing her head more into her neck to keep looking Fred into the eye. "Try," was the only word she said, but it was clearly a challenge.

Fred's grin widened for a moment and then, without saying a word, he leaned forward to get the kiss. The two kept looking each other in the eye, both on their edge, expecting something from the other. When just two millimetres apart, their eyes slid shut. There was pause in their lips' journey to each other, but it continued.

Suddenly Fred stopped, his eyes flew open, just after Cassandra's lips moved, and he was blasted backwards. Cassandra stood with her wand in her hand with a triumphant smile under the mistletoe. There was silence, but Nimwe and Albus were the first to start laughing. Tears welled up in Nimwe's eyes and her belly began to hurt, but Fred's face was all worth it. She had seen that Cassandra had carefully slipped her wand out of her pocket into her hand, ready to cast spell.

Fred was still dumbfounded, when Ryan, also laughing, helped him up and said "Bad luck, try another time."

Nimwe had hugged Cassandra and congratulated her on this priceless stunt. "God, I have some story to tell this Christmas! Thank you!"

Cassandra laughed. "You're welcome. The pleasure was all mine."

The Hogwarts Express slowed down after a long journey from Hogwarts to King's Cross Station in London. Nimwe sat with the usual crowd in the compartment. She was sitting in the corner near the compartment door with her socked feet on the bench and a book open against her knees. On the other half of the bench sat Albus, who was looking through the window, together with Scorpius on the other bench. Niall and Cassandra were opposite Nimwe, sitting close and doing games on a piece of parchment. The two were making the noise in the compartment, for which Nimwe was happy, because uncomfortable silences were just… uncomfortable.

Nimwe was reading a fiction story about a girl who had to save her six brothers from staying swans and she was so into the story that Albus had to shake her to get her to know that they were almost at their destination. She blushed as she quickly put on her shoes and put her book away in her shoulder bag. She had already stowed away her school robes in her trunk at the beginning of the journey, so she looked like a Muggle, except for the fact that she had an owl.

Albus sighed with a big smile. "Home," he said and Nimwe understood him completely. She could not wait to see Charlie and the rest of the Weasleys again. Albus caught her eye and both knew that the other was thinking about the Christmas dinner at the Burrow. It would be like the Sunday lunch, but even bigger. Molly would go crazy with the food, they would sit at the table for hours, mostly bringing up good memories, and not go to bed before midnight.

The train stopped and the five stepped out, though the trunks, cages and the many other Hogwarts students made it uneasy for them to do it fast. Finally Nimwe stood on the platform. She walked slowly forward; her eyes were searching the platform for the familiar red hair her godfather owned and she manoeuvred her trunk to a less crowded place. She stationed her trunk and looked around, trying to look over the heads while standing on her toes.

"Nimwe!"

She turned around with a huge smile on her face when she heard the voice that belonged to him.

"Charlie!" She shortened the distance between them running and flew into his arms. Charlie was a little surprised, but hugged her back as fierce as she did.

"Had a good trip?"

"Oh, yes! I am reading this new book I bought in Hogsmeade. I just could not stop reading!" Nimwe let Charlie go and they walked to the abandoned trunk and cage with Gwyndion. "I must have been a bore for the rest, I think."

Charlie laughed. "It sounds just like you. Don't worry, I think they understood."

Nimwe picked up the cage with Gwyndion and Charlie took her trunk. She sighed dramatically. "I am boring."

Charlie put his arm around her shoulders and said teasingly: "I've been trying to tell you that for years!"

She punched him lightly in the stomach and the two left the train station laughing.

"_Christmas is all around me and so the feeling grows."_

Molly was in the kitchen busy with the preparations for the Christmas. The wireless was on and Celestina Warbeck, Molly's favourite singer, filled the kitchen with her soft voice, which according to Nimwe and most of the family was too annoying to stand hearing.

Arthur was at work dealing with a Christmas tree that strangled Muggle and Nimwe and Charlie were in the living room decorating the tree with decorations in all colours of the rainbow. The garlands were already in the tree and now the ornaments had to be hanged into the tree. The boxes were put on the table set near the tree. There were balls, angels, fairies, hippogriffs and unicorns and they were in different shapes and sizes and collected by the Weasleys through the years. There were antique ornaments, but also self-made sculptures from the grandchildren.

Nimwe took a unicorn and put it in de tree. She smiled: she loved decorating the tree.

Charlie cleared his throat and then asked while hanging a misshaped angel (made by Victoire at age five): "So, how is it going with you and Maeve?"

Nimwe stopped for a moment, before reaching for a blue fairy. This was the first time in the few days she had been home that Charlie had asked about her biological mother and the letters. She had begun to suspect that he was trying to ignore the subject, but understood now that he had just waited for the right moment.

"It's going well, I think," she said. "We have been writing for two months now and it's useful."

"Just useful?" Charlie acted lightly by just continuing what he was doing, but the tone of his voice was serious.

Nimwe blushed slightly. "Well, of course useful because of our magic. But it's nice too. Just strange and it feels uneasy at times."

"That is natural, I think. You don't know each other. You still have to find your method of conversation."

"I know," Nimwe nodded. "It's just…" She thought for a moment. She had not talked about it with her friends, because she did not know how to put it in words. "She can be very harsh in her letters. No, no, not about me," she quickly said when she saw Charlie's expression. "More about the world around her and how she was not allowed to do wandless magic first."

Charlie thought for a moment, hanging a winged horse in the top of the tree. "She sounds bitter."

"Yes, I think that is the right word: bitter. But she's nice too," Nimwe added hastily.

"I'm sure she is. Conor fell in love with her."

Nimwe stepped back to see where she could hang her green fairy in the tree. "Is it strange that I feel that I am just writing to someone I got to know recently and not to my mother?"

Charlie said nothing. Nimwe did not dare to look at him, she almost feared his answer. Maybe there was something wrong with her, not feeling the deeper connection to Maeve.

"It could be that you have to meet her to feel that she is your mother," Charlie said carefully. "However, you have not known her for thirteen years, I think you don't connect like a mother and a daughter after just a few letters."

"She doesn't feel like my mother. I don't think I will ever call her Mum."

Charlie shortly stroked her shoulder in comfort. "You don't have to. You have every right to say Maeve to her. I think she understands. Where do you talk about?"

"Mostly about magic actually. She asks about how I am doing at school and I ask how to do spells that don't work well with me."

Charlie frowned shortly, but hid it by being busy hanging a house-elf in the tree. Something did not feel right about the fact that Maeve would be more interested in Nimwe's magic than in her personal life, present and past. He decided to ignore it and blame it on the awkward situation the two were in.

"So, we only need to put the candles in it," Charlie said when Nimwe had put the star on top of the tree with the use of a stepladder.

Nimwe's eyes lit up like the candles would in a few moments. This was her favourite part of decorating the Christmas tree, because the candles gave the whole room the feeling of cosiness and Christmas. This was the only part of the decorating the tree that would be done with magic. Nimwe took the box with the candles in all colours and placed them on the branches. The candles were already made such that they would stick to the tree and Charlie only had to light them with his wand. They went around the tree and when finished Charlie embraced Nimwe around the shoulders and with a great feeling of satisfaction they viewed their creation.

"Nimwe, I think we did well this year."

"Charlie, I agree. Do you think Molly has baked something?"

He laughed. "Go and take a look in the kitchen. I bet she is waiting for us to have finished the Christmas tree."

Nimwe set off with a big smile and a light jump in her step and Charlie lazily followed her.

The kitchen was filled with the delicious smell of cake, pudding and everything else Molly had already prepared for the dinner tomorrow.

"Hey honey," Molly said, while making the marinade for the chicken. "Is the tree finished?"

"Yes, it is." Nimwe still had this huge smile on her face. Christmas was a happy time and every year she looked forward to it.

"Good. What would Christmas be without a beautiful Christmas tree?"

"Oh, just a Christmas with enough food and family," Charlie said with a teasing smile to his mother.

Molly looked a little stressed again. "Oh, I hope there is enough food! Do you think I should get another chicken or turkey?"

Her son put his hands on her shoulders and said: "Mum, you always have enough food. I'm sure no-one will starve tomorrow."

Molly seemed to be at ease again.

The clock on the wall ticked and the arm with Arthur on it jumped to _Travelling_ and one second later to _Home_. The kitchen door swung open and revealed a shivering Arthur. His scarf was up to his nose, which was as red as his hair.

Molly immediately jumped into her caring mode: she pushed her husband on a kitchen chair and with a wave of her wand she cooked milk in a saucepan. She pulled off the scarf of Arthur's neck and began to steam him to warm him up.

As soon as the milk was warm enough she poured the milk in four mugs, put some cacao in each of them and handed them out to her family. She took the cake she had baked this morning, sliced off four parts, put them on the plates and gave each a plate. The four sat at the kitchen table talking about little stuff and enjoying their moment together.

Outside snowflakes began to fall, though they did not stay on the ground. Still it gave the inhabitants of the Burrow a greater feeling of Christmas.

The Burrow was filled with chatter, laughter and the chaos the Weasley family was known for. It was Christmas Eve and the family filled the kitchen and the living room. The gifts under the Christmas tree were already unpacked and everyone was walking around in the famous Weasley sweaters. Where Molly found the time to knit all of them, Nimwe did not know, but she was extremely happy with her bright red sweater with a big N on it.

It was not yet time to begin the Christmas meal, so the grandchildren were playing several games. Nimwe was engaged in a game of Exploding Snap with Albus, James and Fred. Albus' left eyebrow had been singed and Fred had a black spot on his cheek.

There was another small explosion and both Nimwe and James were coughing hard due to the smoke. The coughing changed into laughing when they saw that Albus' other eyebrow had also become a victim of the game.

With difficulty James said: "You lost again, Al! Ha! I'm the king of Exploding Snap!"

Nimwe chuckled. "Whatever makes you happy, James."

"Anyone in for Pictionary?" Lucy yelled above the noise of the children.

"Yes!" Everyone gathered around the redheaded girl who had the Muggle game with magical subjects in her hands.

"Okay," Teddy said, smiling and stretching his arms and hands to keep some order. "Let's work with the ropes to see who will be a team.

"But," Molly interjected, "seven teams is a little too much for this game, don't you think?"

Teddy nodded. "Let's make two of four players and two of three and every round one of the four player teams have to sit out, to make it fair"

The children nodded; even if they did not agree, they had great respect for Teddy and it was useless to protest. Teddy conjured four strange ropes out of thin air. Two had four endings and tow had four endings. He took them in his hands, rearranged them to mix them up and now only the endings were invisible. Nobody knew which rope end belonged to which team.

"Okay, get a rope and when I say 'Go!' you pull and then the teams are made."

"Yes, sir!" James and Fred saluted. A few sighed, but everyone soon had a rope in his or her hand. There was one left, which was Teddy's.

"Three, two, one… Go!"

Nimwe stepped one step back and with her eyes she followed the line of the rope, which had now been let go by Teddy. Hers was connected to Rose's and Victoire's. The three gathered with a big smile on their face.

"Great team," Rose said. "We're going to win this."

"Absolutely," Victoire said. "We will be unbeatable!"

Nimwe looked around. Teddy, Roxanne, Lily and Louis seemed to be a team, James, Fred and Molly were standing together and the last team consisted of Lucy, Hugo, Albus and Dominique. Nimwe felt a little sorry for Molly to be in a team with the two most energetic people in the family, however like she told her teammates, it was a team to watch. Fred and James were so used to each other that they formed a great team. Molly could only complement it.

The teams set together armed with pencil and paper and the game begun. Nimwe's team were doing well, but so were James, Fred and Molly. Nimwe's team had the luck of having Nimwe as an excellent drawer and Victoire and Rose were both smart in recognising things. The team faced some problems when it was Rose's turn to draw (it was one of her flaws), but they recovered.

As Nimwe had predicted, James' team profited from James and Fred's bond made as soon as they were born. Molly was confident enough to let herself not left out by the two boys. She proved to be an asset when James had drawn and Fred just could not guess what it was.

They were almost halfway through the game, when Harry came into the living room and announced that dinner was almost going to start.

This was the signal for the children to create room for the table that would be set up in the living room. Teddy and Victoire took the game board and carried it upstairs with a secret smile to each other. James, who was standing next to Nimwe, mumbled: "Could Teddy just do that with magic?" and earned himself a punch from Nimwe with it.

"Git," she whispered back. "Of course they want to escape for a short time."

James head turned with a snap to her, his face showing childish disgust.

"Oh, grow up," Nimwe punched him again lightly and then walked to the kitchen to see what she could take to the table in the living room. Meanwhile Arthur was busy with removing the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room to create one big space. They had made this change last year. They had been saving for it and the construction had lasted it a while, but the result was worth it. The family did not have to split up during a big dinner and on normal days the kitchen was the small and cosy heart of the Burrow.

Nimwe walked back into the living room with plates in her hands, when Teddy and Victoire descended the stairs, both with an almost sickly happy smile on their faces. Nimwe saw that Bill narrowed his eyes a little like an overprotective father and Fred and James immediately went to the kitchen. They still had to get used to the fact that their cousin and Teddy were an item and snogging.

Soon the long table was set for the Weasleys, Teddy, Andromeda (Teddy's grandmother who was present every Christmas and on some Sunday lunches) and Nimwe and everyone had found a place at the table. It was always a struggle, but in the end every couple sat together and the children were divided between them. Nimwe sat between Teddy and Albus and was very happy with those arrangements.

Arthur, who as the patriarch of the family, was seated at the head of the table, stood up and cleared his throat. He waited till he had everyone's full attention, before beginning his small annual speech.

"Dear family," he said in his clear and kind voice, "it's nice to see the whole family again, all about to eat from Molly's delicious meal. I want to cease this opportunity to tell you how grateful I am to have you near me. Christmas is a time for family and although we have a big family, we always come together every year here in the Burrow.

"We have lost important people in our lives and I would like to have a moment of silence remember them." His voice became thick and he was struggling for a moment. "Fred, Remus, Tonks and Conor should have been here celebrating Christmas with us, but their lives were taken too early. Please remember them and remember James and Lily Potter, Dave Johnson and everyone else that are dear to us and have left us too early."

Nimwe bowed her head, struggling with her tears. She did not want to cry, because Christmas is a happy time, but she remembered her father and the Christmases together. Under the table Albus took her hand and leaned towards her to let her know he was there for her. She looked at him with watery eyes and gave him a shaky smile. Her eye also caught Charlie's and she saw the love and concern in them. She let him know that she was doing fine with the same smile she had given Albus.

Some memories flashed before her eyes, mostly from the last year he had been alive. It pained her to think about it, but it also filled her with love. She had given his death a place with help of her paintings and now it was less painful to think about it.

Arthur spoke again. "It has been another good year. Everyone is healthy and doing well and I'm grateful for that. Now, I won't keep you any longer from the food Molly has made." He took his glass with red wine and raised it. "Merry Christmas."

The rest of the family repeated the toast and Arthur sat down again. The Christmas dinner had begun.

Nimwe put a lot on her plate, because she could not decide which dish to eat first. There was turkey, beef, potatoes, salads; just everything you would like to eat was on that table.

After everyone had filled their plates, the stories were told. As there were twenty-eight people there were enough stories to be told and heard, but, there were several stories at the same time told, because it was not possible with the clinking of cutlery and glasses to all listen to one story.

Nimwe leaned sideways and shouldered Teddy lightly.

"Hey, Nimwe," he said.

"Hey. How are you?"

"Good, good. Busy with the Auror training, so sorry I could not write as much as I used to."

Nimwe waved it away with her knife in her hand. Teddy backed away slightly to not be cut. "Doesn't matter. I figured as much. Especially now you and Victoire are together!"

Teddy blushed, which matched well with his turquoise hair.

"When did you two get together?"

Victoire with her straight blonde hair and beautiful smile leaned across her boyfriend to answer. "Since the beginning of July, when I got home from Hogwarts, though I was in love with him since I was fifteen or so."

"Wow," Nimwe said, "that's a long time. What took you so long?" she asked Teddy.

He shrugged in uncomfort. "I didn't know! And if I said something about it and she did not return my feelings it would just have been weird. We've been practically family since she was born."

"At least Dad is happier with him than when I took Nick home."

Teddy huffed and the girls laughed at his reaction.

"Well, I'm glad you're together. But you have to keep writing to me, okay, Teddy?"

Teddy put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a small kiss on her temple. "Of course. We have to stick together, though you know have your mother." Nimwe saw his blue eyes change a little. She could not place it, she thought it was jealousy, but that would not be right.

Nimwe looked in his eyes to see if she was right, but Teddy was looking back at his plate.

"She doesn't feel like my mother, though."

Teddy looked back again and now it was clear to Nimwe he was concerned.

She waved it away again. "It's expected after writing to each other so shortly."

He nodded and there was an uncomfortable silence in which they ate. Albus broke the silence: "Teddy, have you heard what happened to Fred a few days ago under the mistletoe?"

The big grin and twinkle in Albus' eyes grabbed Teddy's attention who shook his head and asked to tell the story.

When Albus finished talking there was some big laughter and Fred soon discovered he was the subject of fun. He became slightly pink, but began boosting around about other girls who gladly wanted him under the mistletoe, which caused more laughter.

Harry, who sat across Teddy and Nimwe, had heard the story too and after he stopped laughing he said: "Talking about mistletoes. Hermione has also had quite an experience with mistletoe." He had obtained the attention from the ones around him and Hermione groaned slightly and buried her face shortly in her husband's shoulder.

"In sixth year the Potions professor held a Christmas party for a select group of students. Hermione and I had been invited, Ron wasn't and because he spent most of his time snogging a girl in our year, he and Hermione were fighting. Again." Harry sighed for the effect, which caused a short laugh. "So who did Hermione invite? Cormac McLaggen, a seventh year Gryffindor who had competed against Ron in the Quidditch try-outs. She regretted as soon as she was at the party. Luna and I came at the party and as soon as we saw Hermione, she told us she had left Cormac," a pause for the suspense, "under the mistletoe."

The people who had listened laughed, Hermione became slightly red from embarrassment and Ron looked absolutely pleased. Nimwe thought for a moment: Cormac McLaggen was a name that rang a bell, McLaggen was the last name of Cassandra, but she did not know her fahter's name. Was it possible that…? She smiled and made a mental note to not forget to ask Cassandra about it.

And so there were more stories about previous Christmases, loves and friends. Bill told about that one time he had chased an Egyptian woman, but decided to stop it when her father demanded ten camels and George remembered with a sad smile the times when he and Fred used to 'test' a girl on how sincere she was. Having an identical twin had been useful.

Charlie recounted one of Nimwe's favourite stories. Charlie and Conor had celebrated Christmas together when they were working in Romania, before Conor met Maeve. They had bought chicken on the market in Romania, but it turned out the market vendor had deceived them: the chicken was all rotten inside. The two had already been drinking some firewhiskey already and not entirely steady on their feet, they had gone to a restaurant. They were having such a good time that they were dancing with the dancers before they had eaten anything. They ended on the street with an empty stomach and mad boyfriends of the dancers chasing them.

When everyone had filled their stomachs and could almost not move anymore Firewhiskey was passed to the adults and the children got some butterbeer. The wireless emitted lazy Christmas songs and everyone was softly talking amongst each other.

Nimwe felt satisfied and happy and she was glad that she had been taken into this family. The Weasley family was big, chaotic, mostly red, but loving, caring and warm. Nimwe could not and would never wish for a better family.

She leaned back in her chair, not really listening to the conversations around her. Her head lay shortly in her neck and she closed her eyes shortly, shutting out the room and the noise to have a moment for herself and her father.

Dad, she thought, Merry Christmas.


	15. Energy

**Hi everyone! As you have noticed, it took quite some time to upload this. I had it all written out on paper, but it took some time to type it out and make some changes, etc. I hope you enjoy this en look out for the next chapter!**

**P.s. I would love some reviews.**

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**Chapter 15: Energy**

Nimwe always thought it was a little unpleasant to return to school after the holidays: she had to say goodbye and knew she would not see him for a few months. She left the warmth of the Burrow to go to the Hogwarts Castle, which was chilly, though cosy in the Gryffindor Common Room during the winter.

Nimwe and Charlie had hugged each other with a promise of writing letters. He had insisted she would keep him up to date on the Maeve-situation now that Nimwe had decided that she would arrange a rendezvous with her biological mother in the next Hogsmeade weekend.

The train journey passed by fast while the five friends talked about the holiday and how they had spent their Christmas. This made Nimwe remember something and when the stories were told, she asked Cassandra: "Cassandra, what's your father's first name?"

Her friend looked a little surprised, but answered nonetheless. "Cormac. Why do you ask?" She saw Nimwe smile and look at Albus with a meaningful look. The boy was clueless for a moment, but then it seemed the candle had been lit above his head.

"Cormac McLaggen," he said smiling. Cassandra nodded, wearing the same expression as Scorpius and Niall: none of them had an idea of what so funny was about her father's name. "Your father was a Gryffindor and he was about nineteen when Voldemort fell?"

Cassandra counted in her head and then nodded. "But how do you…?"

Her voice was lost in the laughter of Nimwe and Albus. It took them a while to calm down and explain everything.

When the story about Hermione, Cormac and the mistletoe was finished, Scorpius and Niall began to laugh and Cassandra said, stifling her laugh: "He is always boosting about how popular he was with the girls before he began dating my mother and that no-one has ever rejected him before."

This increased the laughter and several children that were passing the compartment looked slightly worried into through the door window.

"We should arrange a meeting between him and aunt Hermione," Albus suggested. "And uncle Ron should be there too, you saw his face at Christmas when Dad told the story."

"Oh, this should be brilliant," Nimwe said, already enjoying the prospect of letting the adults meet.

Cassandra wore the same expression "I want to see his reaction when he sees them. It should be good. When should we do it?"

"In the summer," Albus said.

"Good," Cassandra presented him her hand to shake, which he did. "It's a deal."

The lessons commenced the next day and the teachers did not give them the chance to breath. Lessons and homework filled their days and it was hard to find some free time.

Nimwe had not painted in a while and she missed it, but she knew she would need several hours to make a painting, so she put her creativity in small drawings.

The letters between her and Mave kept going and finally Nimwe knew the date for the next Hogsmeade weekend: near the end of March she would finally meet the woman who gave birth to her.

Nimwe had written Charlie to inform him of the date and in his answering letter he promised that he would be there to support her. She was grateful for this and Albus, Scorpius, Cassandra and Niall promised to be there too for her. She could not transform her gratefulness into words, but her smile was enough for them to understand.

"We'll put on some sunglasses, a hat and a long coat, while watching you from behind the Daily Prophet," proposed Cassandra enthusiastic in an attempt to distract Nimwe from her nervousness. "We'll be like the CIA or the FBI or Scotland Yard."

"What are you talking about?" Niall asked.

"You know, those secret services?" Cassandra said, looking around to get a response of recognition. She got none. "Muggle thing," she sighed. "Just think of secret agents slash spies for the law department."

"Ah," the overall reaction was and they talked more about spies in the wizard and in the Muggle world.

The date for the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw match approached and on that Saturday Nimwe sat on the tribune, dressed in a red sweater with a red hat on her head and a red with golden scarf around her neck. Although she was wearing warm clothes, she was shivering from the cold and she and Cassandra were standing close to each other in an attempt to give each other warmth. The boys, dressed in equally warm clothes, were stamping their feet and rubbing their gloved hands together to get the chill out of their bodies, while discussing the upcoming match.

"The Chasers of Ravenclaw are clever, that will make it harder for us. Their tactic could be killing for us," Scorpius said.

"True," Niall said, "however, based on the two last matches, Gryffindor has a bigger chance of winning."

Albus did not look convinced. "The Hufflepuff team this year is weak. Ravenclaw did not have to give their all in that game, so we don't know their full capacity."

"Don't be so pessimistic, Al," Scorpius said, punching him lightly to the shoulder. "I say as long as your brother catches the Snitch before Smith does, there'll be no problem."

"Smith?" Cassandra asked having followed their speculations with great interest without the nee to interfere until now. "Are you talking about Evan Smith, fifth year, gorgeous eyes?"

The three boys rolled their eyes and Albus, used to girls due to the many females in his family, said: "Didn't notice his eyes, but I guess that's him. Weren't you here during his first game against Hufflepuff?"

"Nope." Cassandra popped the p. "I was in detention with O'Field, because I completely failed the Colourpotion. I should have done my homework," she said with joking remorse. "Didn't matter that I wasn't there, I heard the match was a total bore."

Scorpius nodded and continued the discussion. "Our Beaters are obviously better than Ravenclaw's. It was horrible to see that Beater duck away from the Bludger, despite having the perfect position for beating it to the opponent's Chaser." Everyone chuckled at the memory. David White had been teased with it for several days, because of that action.

"At least hope it should be a good game or I am wasting my time here. I still have homework to do." Scorpius did not notice the incredulous looks of the others.

"Scor, it is permitted to take a break once in a while, you know," Albus said. The light tone not hiding his serious face.

The blonde boy sighed. "I know, but…" He did not have to finish as his friends understood immediately: he had received another letter from his father to push him to do well in school. Scorpius did not want to let his parents down and he had worked hard since first year to get high marks. Luckily he had a good brain, though still he acted like he would not make it in school with working all hours a day. He did looked straight at the Quidditch pitch, avoiding everyone's eye to not talk about the subject.

Nobody talked and between the five of them there was an uncomfortable silence until the voice of Ryan Jordan, member of the new Marauders and the new commentator since Noah Quinn left school last year, broke that silence.

"Good morning Hogwarts students teachers at the third match this year between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw!" His enthusiasm encouraged the audience into cheering for their House. "The weather is calm, but chilly, so there should not be any problem for having a great game today!" More cheering.

"Great, you're excited, I'm excited. Let me present you the teams! For Gryffindor: Raj, Morrison, Cole, Tayler, Wood, deCote and Potter!" The team had not changed much since first year: only the captain had left school was replaced by the fifth year Gary Cole as a Beater and Ravi Raj, Chaser and seventh year, was now the captain of Gryffindor.

While Gryffindor walked onto the field, Ryan continued: "They are playing against the team of Ravenclaw! Murray, Topsen, Johnson, Buckley, Hodge, Byrne and Smith!"

The team dressed in blue with silver accents joined the circle in the middle and Madam Hooch; the usual referee joined them with a chest containing the balls for the game. The captains shook hands, friendly, though with determined expressions on their faces. They joined their teams, while Madam Hooch set the Bludgers and the Snitch free and took the Quaffle in her hand. Everyone on the field mounted their brooms and for a moment there was total silence. The tribune was filled with the air of anticipation.

Then Madam Hooch whistled: she threw the Quaffle in the air and everybody took off.

"And the game's begun!" Ryan yelled. "The Quaffle is in Gryffindor hands, Raj flies forward, passes it to Cole and she scores!"

That afternoon Scorpius had to seek refuge in the library as the whole of the Gryffindor House was celebrating the 280 against 90-victory on the Ravenclaw team. The Chasers had indeed struggled with the opponents' Chasers but Wood as the Keeper following his uncle's footsteps, had saved the day several times and James had sealed the deal with a finger length victory on Evan Smith, who had left the field moping.

The party was about to close up due to people leaving to do homework and such, when Fred and Bran reappeared with many bottles of Butterbeer. They were welcomed with great cheering and the celebration started all over again. All the players were toasted to twice and the captain Raj began to sing: "Weasley is our King," though it was twenty years outdated. In the end the name Weasley was changed into other names, even in names of people that were not in the Quidditch team, but happened to be in the room celebrating.

Nimwe stood with Albus and Cassandra and Niall, who were singing exuberantly along with Butterbeer in their hands and Niall's arm curled around Cassandra's shoulder. Nimwe and Albus looked amused at their friends. They were celebrating more composed, taking sips from their Butterbeer and now and then yelling "Yay!" at the end of a couplet.

"Do they know they haven't won the Quidditch Cup yet?" Albus asked Nimwe with amusement.

"If they do, just imagine the party when we do win the Cup." They laughed at the prospect. Nimwe thought the Tower would be too small for them. "Well, who can blame them? We're almost there. We have to wait and see the Slytherin-Hufflepuff game, but we stand a fair chance."

"True, though it is certain that Slytherin will win from Hufflepuff," Albus commented.

"You're right, but," Nimwe said with a big stress on the last word, "our last game is against Hufflepuff. It will be thé game to make the difference in points."

Still Albus was not convinced. "We only won from Slytherin by fifty points. What if they gain such a big lead that it is impossible for us to win that cup?"

"Oh, little brother, don't be so pessimistic!" James had joined the two and put his arm around Albus. "We are going to win this Cup. Here, drink some more Butterbeer and loosen up a bit." He poured some more into Albus' cup, spilled some on his uniform and was off again.

"Wow," Nimwe said, "that was brief." She watched him join Cassandra and Niall in the twenty-somethingieth verse of the altered 'Weasley is our King'.

Albus shrugged. "That's James," as if that explained all. He looked around with a small frown. "I wonder if Scorpius is coming back soon."

"He's doing his homework, don't count on it." Nimwe wore the same expression as her friend. "I wish he did not push himself so much. He looked exhausted this morning."

Albus nodded. "He did not go to bed before one and got up early this morning. He does not permit himself to rest a lot."

"Stupid boy. If only his father did not expect so much from him. Have you ever met him?"

"Just briefly actually, when I visited Scorpius this summer. I introduced myself, shook his hand and then he was off to his work."

"What did you think of him?"

"Scorpius and he look scarily alike. Same hair, same eyes, same face." Nimwe chuckled. "What?" He asked.

"You just described Harry and you. Oi, just saying," she said with her hands up, palms towards him when he looked at her with a slightly annoyed look.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard that before, like millions of times. Anyway he did not seem unpleasant; just he had this harsh look in his eyes. You know what they say about Scorpius' Dad with the Death Eaters and such, I think it's still in him."

Nimwe looked shocked. "You don't mean like he is still a Death Eater or something?"

"No, no," Albus said quickly and he tried to explain as good as possible what he meant. "More like he is still effected by what happened in the time of Voldemort's reign. I see it in Dad too and the rest of the family, though not as strong as in Dad."

Nimwe thought about it for a moment. She drank from her Butterbeer to not have to comment directly. "Do you think those scars relate to why his dad is pushing him so hard?"

Albus drank some Butterbeer before giving his thoughts. "Could be, though I suspect it is more because of the upbringing Mister Malfoy had."

"Oh, Scorpius' grandparents." Nimwe nodded understandingly. "He doesn't like his grandfather."

Albus snorted. "Loathing comes closer. I asked my father once about him and just the look said enough. Not that my father has said anything too bad about him, just that it was not his type of person. I think that was put very lightly."

"You know, I think that Scorpius is also a small part of the problem."

"Scorpius?" Albus asked surprised. "How?"

"His whole family was in Slytherin. The ones that weren't, were eventually kicked out of the family. I think he is afraid that will happen also to him and now he is pushing himself to be a man worthy of the name Malfoy."

"Damn, it would not surprise me if you were right. Damn, that kid is not good to himself. Do you think we should talk to him about it?"

"Do you reckon he will listen? He's got a thick skull when he wants to," Nimwe said. "This is a family problem. Why would we believe us when we talk about his family that we barely know."

The two sighed as one: Scorpius could be a complex person at times.

"We will take care of the exhaustion problem, that's something we can help with. When I visit Scorpius, maybe I can give a hint to his mother, but I can't promise anything, alright?"

"Alright. It's a start. So how should we do it?"

"Send him to bed like we're his parents."

Nimwe laughed. "I bet he likes that! We should start with suggestions. Approach him kindly. When he refuses, we should handle it firmer until we have to drag him to bed."

"Sounds good. Now we just have to hope he'll appreciate it."

Nimwe and Albus looked at each other and at the same time they shook their heads. "Never," they said simultaneously.

On Monday the news about another fire was the conversation of the day. There had been several fires since the start of the school year, though now it seemed to be part of a bigger picture. The Daily Prophet reported that the fire had happened in the night from Sunday on Monday at the house of two Ministry workers living in Wales. The couple had been warned by their dog and were able to escape the house before the fire had spread too far. Due to living in a community with mainly Muggles and just a few wizard families they had to wait for the so called 'Firefighters': professional Muggles whose job it is to extinguish the fire. Ministry workers were investigating the crime scene, but students and teachers were already speculating who and what could be behind this.

The thing was no one had a clue. There was peace in the wizard world, there was no strong individual that had come forward with critique on the government and there were no threats directed to wizards.

At breakfast, after the owl post had arrived and Albus had read the headline with the accompanying article, he went slightly pale. He looked around at the Ravenclaw table and soon caught the eye of his cousin Rose, who immediately came over with Caroline and Padric close behind her and the Prophet clutched in her hand. She squeezed herself between Albus and Nimwe and her friends took seats next to Nimwe on one side and next to Niall on the opposite side of the table.

Rose pointed at the article and the photo of a heavily damaged house with a serious expression. "These fires, they have all happened at the houses of Ministry workers. I don't like where this is going."

Albus nodded and Scorpius said: "There is definitely a pattern now. Luckily they have not caused serious damage to people, nobody was injured, but…"

"But that could change any minute. As far as we know, the next time someone could end up in St. Mungo's or worse," Albus finished.

Rose leaned forward. "That's what I am thinking. It's clearly all directed against the Ministry and this couple that's been attacked was fairly unimportant at the Ministry."

Nimwe made a noise to make clear she did not approve of the sentence.

"Okay, fine, that was too blunt," Rose said without caring about it too much. There were more important matters to discuss. "What I meant to say is, what will happen to people who have more important positions at the Ministry, for instance Mum, Uncle Harry or Uncle Percy." They had come to the main concern of the redheaded girl: her family who had quite a few people working for the wizard government.

"You mean it's just waiting for a bigger fire?" Nimwe asked what everyone feared. Rose only nodded. "Then, who is behind this all?"

The girl seemed to not have an idea or she did not want to share it. Her friend Padric did not mind to share his theory. "In my opinion we should not be surprised if it turned out to be former Death Eaters. They are used to a guerrilla style of war."

"Guerrilla?" Albus asked.

"War in secret. A group attacks in secret when nobody expects it. It makes the war uneven, out of balance," Niall explained and after seeing the surprised faces, he added: "My parents encountered it years ago in the jungles. You don't have to look so surprised when I know something!"

"He's right, about the guerrilla," Scorpius said. "But the fact is, many Death Eaters were rounded up and put in Azkaban, if not everyone."

"I'm sorry to say this, Scorpius, but some were released again. Just look at your grandfather." Albus did not flinch by the harsh look in his friends grey eyes, but others did. It was not something the boy wanted to be reminded of.

"Well, if they were captured once and they have something to do with these fires, they can be captured again. Dad will take care of that," Albus said confidently.

"Indeed," Rose said, standing up to leave. "I think we should leave Hugo and Lily out of this. I don't want them to write hysterically to our parents."

"Do you think you can stop them from hearing something? Here at Hogwarts where news spreads even faster than a fire?" Nimwe said with a raised eyebrow. "Imagine how hysteric they will be if they just hear a little piece of it. I say, tell them enough to keep them calm."

Rose's face tightened a little and then said to Nimwe and Albus: "Fine. Will you please attend to it? We have to go to History of Magic." She was gone before an answer could be given. Cassandra looked at the girl's back with a bit perplexed expression. "Wow, what a person," she commented.

"Well," Albus said with an excusing smile, mostly to Nimwe. "Rose doesn't take talking back quite well. I will go to Lily and Hugo and I'll meet you in class." He stood up, walked to the end of the table where the first years were seated and sat down next to his redheaded sister.

"I guess I have to be happy that my parents travel and don't work for the Ministry then," Niall said, looking at the newspaper Albus had left behind.

"If this worsens, at least half of the children at school have to fear for their parents," Scorpius said, mainly looking at Cassandra, whose mother worked in the Department of Magical Transportation as Head of the Floo Network Authority. "But it will all be fine," he said trying to reassure her, though it only helped half.

The rest of the breakfast was eaten in silence.

Just before Nimwe stood up to leave the Great Hall, Professor Longbottom reached her to tell her that their private lesson was to be held this Thursday instead of Friday due to an appointment he had to attend. When she asked him what they were going to do, he just smiled mysteriously and said that it was something new. He could not have made her more curious.

Rumours and guesses appeared the following week every day in the Prophet, but up till the moment Nimwe left the Gryffindor Tower on Thursday evening, there were no facts and everyone was in the dark about the fires.

She had left the Tower due to wanting to know what the lesson would be about and she could simply not wait any longer. That is how she arrived at the usual classroom at the ground floor, which was empty. She walked into the room, closed the door behind her and sat down at one of the front desks. Out of her bag she took parchment, quill and ink and began to sketch a little to kill the time, though her attention was more on the door than on the tree that began to appear on the parchment.

Her eyes shot to the door when the familiar sound of a knob turning came from it, however instead of Professor Longbottom, Scorpius entered the room. He died in his tracks when he saw the classroom was already occupied.

"Oh, hi. Sorry, I thought this one was empty." Scorpius ruffled his hair slightly in a nervous manner and he was already half turned to the door to walk away.

"Doesn't matter. I'm here waiting for Longbottom. What are you doing here?"

Scorpius shrugged, his posture still as if he wanted to go away. "Just searching for an empty and quiet place. I'll leave you alone. Bye." He turned further to exit the room.

"Scorpius, wait." Nimwe stood up and walked to him. She took a good look at him and she could not help feel worried. "Are you okay? You don't look well."

"I'm fine. Just a little busy, that's all." He did not look her in the eyes.

"Not just a little busy. Scorpius, don't think we don't notice it. You're tired, all the time. You work to hard."

"It's nothing. I just have to do my homework on time. That's why I'm looking for a classroom now. Have you seen the amount of homework for Ancient Runes? And there is that test for Transfiguration on Monday." There was some panic in his grey eyes and Nimwe felt a little sorry for him. She sighed: it would be impossible to convince Scorpius to cut him some slack. Besides, Albus and she had agreed on helping him sleep more and not interfere with his family problems.

"Fine, finish it today, but promise me you will go to bed early tomorrow. You need your sleep, Scorpius." When he did not answer she looked at him with a fierce stare. "Promise me, Scorpius, please." Her stare and plea helped.

"Okay, but I really have to go now."

Nimwe saw Professor Longbottom walking down the stair accompanied by Professor O'Field form Defence Against the Dark Arts. "Okay. I will see tomorrow. Good luck with your homework."

"Thanks," Scorpius walked away in a pace that showed he wanted to gain the time he had lost.

"Good evening, Nimwe," Longbottom greeter her with a kind smile on his round face.

"Good evening, Professors. I did not know you would be here," she said to Professor O'Field, while walking back to her desk.

"Professor Longbottom invited me here," she answered while sitting at a student desk while her colleague took his seat behind the teacher's desk.

After Professor Longbottom had taken out an unfamiliar book, parchment, quill and ink he turned his attention to his student. "So, Nimwe, I a m sure you woiuld like to know what this lesson is about and why Professor O'Field is here." He paused and Nimwe nodded, her full attention on his words. "However, before I tell you anything, I want to discuss the problems you have encountered in the last few weeks."

Nimwe took out another piece of paper and looked at it quickly. "There was the Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson last week. I discussed it with Professor O'Field," she looked shortly at her teacher on her right, who nodded. "It was the spell against a banshee. My tries were useless, I did not come near the wished result."

Longbottom nodded. "We will try to figure that out first and after we're done with that, I will tell you my discovery."

They practiced a half hour fully in which Nimwe progressed so slowly that it was frustrating her.

It turned out that a different move was needed then wand users did. It took long before they were close to the move that was needed and it showed Nimwe's disadvantage in the wizarding world.

"I think we should leave it at this for now," Professor O'Field said when the frustration in Nimwe was so big that she could have thrown something to just let it out. "I expect you to practice this as homework this week. Next week on Friday after class you will show me your progression."

"Yes, professor, I will." Nimwe made a note to ask Albus to help her, as he was pretty good in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"Well, now my discovery." Professor Longbottom was radiating so much that Nimwe expected him to start clapping or jumping of joy. "A while ago I received a book from a friend about the history of spells. Of course it's full of spells that are commonly used. However there are also passages in this book that discuss spells that we don't know and there are also stories from witnesses of a spell that has been used once or twice and nobody knows how it is actually done. Now you want to ask me, what has that got to do with me? Well," he paused to raise the suspense. He searched through his book until he found what he was looking for. "In this book I found a passage which recites the eyewitness of a man who saved a village from a monstrous creature with an energy ball, conjured by his own hands, not a with a wand. I researched the man and it seems he was like you and it is possible that he is one of your ancestors."

"Wow," Nimwe said, taking all the information in and excitement began to grown inside of her, because she had a feeling of what she would be doing this lesson.

He continued: "I think we should try using this spell."

A big smile appeared on Nimwe's face and Professor Longbottom hastened to not make her too excited. "It will be hard, don't expect any results this lesson. Professor O'Field is here, because this is in her field of expertise. We will help you to develop this spell. In this passage there is no hint of what incantation you have to use, so that will be our main focus. It will take a long time to perfect this, but I think we can manage.

"The essence of this spell is energy in the form of a ball. I will read to you what's been written about it, then we can develop everything from there."

Professor O'Field nodded in agreement. "We will practice this regularly, but you can't practice this on your own. You have to be supervised by at least one of us. Due to this spell being experimental I expect from you to be serious, otherwise Professor Longbottom and I will call it off."

Nimwe nodded. "I understand. I will be serious and commit myself to this. We don't know much about this spell. What do we know about it?"

"Good question," Longbottom said. He waved a little with the book. "In this book the spell and movement is described without an incantation. Now finding the incantation does not have to be hard, because everything originates from Latin. We just need to find the right Latin word or phrase. Because I have an idea of what the spell is like, I made a list with possible incantations. We'll try those and see which one is the right one or is close enough.

"Now, I will read you the passage, then you also know what we are dealing with." He cleared his throat and read from the book: "The mysterious man stood square opposite the evil creature. He had done some harm to it and did not show any fear. He stretched his arms forward, held them apart like he was holding the ball we use when we play football and then he drew both his hands to his chest, keeping the distance between his torso and his hands about a hand width long. He began to mumble words, which were unknown to any of us villagers, though it was clear he was repeating what he was saying over and over as a soft chant.

"With his feet firm on the ground he tensed his hands and closed his eyes, not stopping the chant. Slowly sparks began to emerge from both his hands. The sparks were none like sparks form a fire we create at Guy Fawkes: they were more like the sparks in the dark sky accompanied by the noise of a giant drum: lightning, though these spark the man was creating were silent. The ball in which they gathered expanded, as the man created a bigger space for the sparks to gather. He did not seem to be hurt by the lightning between his hands.

"Finally his eyes snapped op, he turned his upper body, taking his hands along and then pushed the ball with a fast move to the vicious creature. The hurt creature did not stand a chance as the ball of sparks travelled fast and hit him square in the chest. This brave man ended the reign of the monster that it had had over my village and we will be eternally grateful for that."

Professor Longbottom was done with reading and looked at Nimwe who was imagining what the spell looked like.

"I hope you understand how little we know about the spell to actually perform it, Nimwe," Professor O'Field said, clearly trying to let her student fully understand the difficulty of reinventing this spell.

"I do. But we know how to do it and what the effect is. We'll have to experiment with that, don't we?"

"We do. That's why I want to underline again that it is important that you do not try this on your own, no matter how eager you are to try this." Nimwe nodded. "Good, now we will act the spell out. Just to see if you feel anything and to get used to that. Come on." She motioned Nimwe to stand up and join her in the empty space in front of the classroom. Professor Longbottom stayed where he was and he had his quill ready to take notes.

Nimwe stood next to her Defence teacher and then after a nod of her, she extended her arm and bent her fingers like she was holding a small ball.

"I think you should create a somewhat bigger space. More the size of a Quaffle than the size of a Bludger." Professor O'Field corrected her and pulled her hands a little more apart. "Good. The next step would be chanting, but we don't have the words, so I want you to try to direct your energy to your hands. We," she pointed at Professor Longbottom and herself, "think that this spell will require some of your energy. Maybe you will feel something when you push your energy out of your hands, so to speak."

Nimwe imagined there was a flow in her body, like a river, that contained energy and she pushed it to her hands. It was hard and she closed her eyes to gain more concentration.

_Come on _she thought _just a tinkle is enough. I just want to feel that we are on the right track. _She felt a sensation through her body, though it did not all go to the place she wanted it to go.

"Bring your hands closer to your body, maybe that helps." The voice of Professor O'Field interrupted her concentration and Nimwe lost the sensation.

She breathed in through her nose, out through her mouth and tried again. Slowly the sensation came back and slowly she brought her hands closer to her chest, closer to her heart; the centre of her body. The stream of energy increased, though when she carefully opened one eye there were no sparks to be seen between her hands. She dropped her hands in defeat and opened her eyes entirely.

Both professors were looking at her expectantly.

"Just some sensation in my body, though not with any result as you can see."

"But you did feel something?" Professor Longbottom asked eagerly.

"Well, I was trying to steer energy to my hands and that is what I felt. I don't know if it is what is needed for the spell."

"We'll try it again, just with an incantation from the list. Shall we?" Professor O'Field got the list from her colleague and gave it to Nimwe, who looked at the first word, said it a few times and Nimwe gave the list back.

She did every step as she had done before, though now she began to chant: "Ignis Divum. Ignis Divum. Ignus Divum."

She tried to concentrate on sending energy to her hands to, but she did not feel anything. After standing there for a few minutes, she stopped with it.

"I don't think that one was the right one," Professor O'Field remarked and Professor Longbottom wrote it on the piece of parchment with notes. Nimwe wanted to roll her eyes and say, really? But decided against it.

"Next one!" And Nimwe repeated everything, now with another incantation.

They practiced for an hour, but the results they were hoping for, did not appear. Sometimes Nimwe felt the same sensation as the first time, but mostly she almost knew immediately it was no good and Professor O'Field crossed those out.

After trying "Ignis Caelum", without the sensation, Nimwe dropped exhausted her hands and she walked two steps back to lean against the desk that was placed there.

"Well," Professor Longbottom said while writing a few words down. "I think that'll be enough for today. We will continue this in two weeks on our usual Friday and meanwhile I will research some more on the subject."

Nimwe and Professor O'Field nodded and Nimwe walked without much energy to her bag, where she put all her stuff back in it. O'Field returned the parchment with Latin chants to Longbottom and then also collected everything and put it in her teacher's bag.

"Nimwe, before you go, I have to ask you to not discuss this with your friends or with Maeve, yet. I know it will be hard, however we are still in the experimental stage, so I want to keep it secret until we have more to work with. Besides us, only Professor Burnewood and Charlie know about this. Let's keep it among us five, okay Nimwe?"

Nimwe hesitated: it would be hard to keep it from her friends, especially because it was so big and exciting.

"Nimwe, I need your word. I promise you will be allowed to tell them later, just not yet."

Nimwe pushed her hair back with her right hand and sighed. "I promise. I won't tell anyone."

Longbottom smiled at her. "Good, I appreciate that. Sleep well." The lesson and conversation had ended and Nimwe bade her teachers a good night and left the room.

The castle was quiet when Nimwe climbed the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower and this silence she did not enjoy. She tried not to concentrate too hard on her footsteps or breathing, because it would just drive her nuts. She wished she had music or someone to talk with, but as those two things were not in her reach, she quickened her step to reach the crowded Common Room faster. Soon she heard footsteps coming from the corridor on the far right. When she reached it, she almost bumped into the person she did not want to bump in or have any contact with, especially not at night.

"All alone in the dark, La Faye?" sneered Calhoun Selwyn with the usual arrogant look on his face. Behind him were his usual companion Frye and Gyleth, both smirking identically.

"Obviously, Selwyn," Nimwe answered with sarcasm, looking at him as if he were the dumbest person in the world, although she knew that Cecelia Nuvelle, a girl heavily interested in Selwyn, would beat him easily in that competition. She wanted to step sideways of him to continue her walk, but he blocked her. She sighed, heavily annoyed. "Would you mind stepping away? I am on my way to the Tower and you are currently blocking it." She looked him square in the eye and he did not look or step away. Instead he planted his feet firm on the ground and crossed his arms to let her know he had no intention of humouring her. Frye and Gyleth followed his example and made it impossible for her to pass them.

"Make me," challenged Selwyn her.

Nimwe felt the exhaustion and she did not have the energy to shout or sneer at him. "Selwyn, please don't ruin my night for me any further. Step aside."

"No."

Internally Nimwe let out a groan of frustration: she would have to take the long route to the Gryffindor Tower. She rolled her eyes at the Slytherins, turned around and walked away. "Childish gits," she mumbled.

A second later a beam of light passed her ear by an inch. She spun around and saw Selwyn with a raised hand, his wand pointing at her, and an angry expression.

"I don't take insults very well, La Faye," he said with venom in his voice and he yelled the Jelly-Legs Jinx spell. Nimwe jumped out of the way just in time.

"Hey!" she yelled. "Don't be such an idiot. It's forbidden to use…" She could not finish her sentence as both Selwyn and Frye fired a spell on her. A shot of adrenaline seemed to kick in, because her exhaustion seemed to be minor and she cried "Protego" with her hand palms pointing to the boys to conjure an invisible shield. Just in time and the spells bounded back to Selwyn and Frye who had to step aside to avoid the spells from hitting them.

Gyleth, his size not matching his small brain, had also taken out his wand now and tried to to aim at Nimwe, who was however faster than him.

"Expelliarmus!" Practicing it in the private lessons had perfected it and the wand flew out of Gyleth's hand into Nimwe's.

She had not paid enough attention to the other two boys and the Leg-Locker Curse hit her. She gave a cry when she fell over, holding out her hands to break her fall.

When she rolled over on her back she saw Selwyn towering above her with his wand pointed at her chest. She did not move as he opened his mouth to cast a spell, but it was not him who said "Petrificus Totalus." Nimwe saw Selwyn petrify on the spot and fall forward on her with some impact. She groaned at the pain the rigid body caused on her stomach and chest and she pushed him away immediately to relieve her body. She sat op to see what had happened and was happening at the moment.

To her big surprise she saw James and Bran, both pointing their wands at Frye and Gyleth who had been driven into a corner by the two boys. Gyleth, the wandless one, held his hands up in surrender and Frye had lowered his wand, slightly trembeling.

Wit a casual "Expelliarmus" Bran took Frye's wand and in just a matter of a few seconds the Slytherins had been made defenceless.

"Coward," James spat and the two boys pushed themselves more against the wall. "Duelling against a girl, three to one, in a deserted corridor. Real heroes, you are."

Nimwe smiled when she saw the two Gryffindors and she did not want to ruin the moment for them as Frye and Gyleth were trying to disappear in the stonewall; however she was in a difficult position and she needed some help

"James, Bran, can one of you help me, please?" Nimwe asked to get their attention. When they turned their heads at once, as if they had forgotten her for a moment, she pointed to her legs, which were still stuck together and she smiled apologetically. James grinned and walked to her to help. Frye and Gyleth, Nimwe saw, tried to shuffle away, but Bran, who had all his attention on them again, made a threatening move with his wand and the two stood still immediately; Gyleth even with his left leg on his toe instead of his whole foot.

"Hey Nimwe, you all right?" James asked as he looked at her from top to bottom to see if she was damaged in any other way than the curse.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just my legs, you see."

"Good for you I can help you with that. _Finite,_" he said, pointing his wand at her legs, which immediately were unglued. Nimwe bend and unbend her knees to try them out.

She smiled at him and said: "Thanks! I should remember that spell. I don't know how I could have escaped this without you guys." She stood up with James' help. She looked around and then remembered that they were not very close to the Gryffindor Tower. At least not close enough to hear what had been going on. "How did you know what was going on?"

"Oh, we just saw this, heard that, were in the neighbourhood…" James anwered nonchantly.

"And we never back down from helping a damsel in distress," Bran added with a grin, still pointing his wand at the two Slytherins. Selwyn still lay rigid on the floor at Nimwe's feet. "What do you reckon we should do with these chickens, James? Also petrify them and leave them be?"

The black haired was already nodding his head, but Nimwe stopped them. "We should let them go. We could get in trouble for that tomorrow. Now we can say it was in our defence to petrify Selwyn, if they decide a teacher should be informed."

Bran groaned and James sighed. "Fine, let's be smart for one time. But just this time, okay?" He turned to the Slytherins. "Next time won't be this pretty. Got it?"

Frye and Gyleth nodded shaking their heads, probably to frightened to open their mouths.

"Good, now let's undo this." Nimwe pointed with her finger at Selwyn. "Shame really, he so much more fun like this. _Finite._" Selwyn's body relaxed immediately and he hastened to stand up. He stepped back a little, but his wand was firm in his hand and he looked furious and humiliated. James pointed his wand threateningly at him and Selwyn did not dare to do something. He motioned Frye and Gyleth to join him and picked up the abandoned wand of Gyleth that Nimwe had let go when she had fallen to the ground. The three Slytherins walked backwards, keeping their eyes on the Gryffindors and finally they were gone.

"Gits," Bran said, turning to the right to walk to the Gryffindor Tower. Nimwe and James walked beside them, the girl in the middle as if the two boys guarded her.

"How did you get into this?" James asked on her right.

"Run into them when I was walking to the Tower. They didn't feel like letting me pass, so I turned to take the longer route and insulted them a little. Selwyn got angry and cast a spell. Thankfully he does not have a perfect aim, it missed me by an inch, but they kept throwing spells at me, so I tried to defend myself. I protected myself with a shield and Disarmed Gyleth, but Selwyn took me by surprise and glued my legs together. I fell over and that was it really." She shrugged as if it were nothing. It had not been something she had wanted to encounter, but in the end they were third years and it had not turned very bad. "Thank you for coming to my rescue, I think Selwyn would have left me Stupefied in that corridor, but I still don't get how you got there just in time."

James and Bran looked at each other, grinned almost identical smiles and James said mysteriously: "Let's say we have a special way of knowing someone's whereabouts in this castle."

Nimwe looked at them with some astonishment and big curiosity. "How? What is it? Tell me!"

"Nope." The boys clearly enjoyed this. "Maybe some other time."

"It's so unfair to make me so curious, Potter!" She shouldered him lightly, but let the subject go when he did not tell her anything.

Bran asked her attention by bumping into her lightly. "What was a well behaved girl like you, doing so late, wandering around the castle?"

Nimwe lifted one eyebrow, sceptic of his flirty vocabulary. "I was not wandering around. I've just had a private lesson with Professor Longbottom and Professor O'Field." She smiled with excitement. "We are practicing something great at the moment."

"Really, what's that?" James asked interested on her other side.

"Well, James, that is something I'm not going to tell you." The boy's expressions made her laugh. They had now reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. Bran gave her the password and the three entered the busy Common Room. Students were scattered all around, making their homework and chatting: a ususal evening in the Gryffindor Tower.

Nimwe looked around and spotted her friends in some chairs and on a couch near the window. She turned to James and Bran. "Thank you, again. I owe you."

"Don't mind that. We're family," James waved it away, though Bran looked like he had something he wanted in return. James' elbow and threatening look however silenced him. "Next time you come across those snakes, don't hesitate to call us for help, 'kay?"

"Yeah, thank you. I'll see you around," and Nimwe walked to Cassandra, Albus, Scorpius and Niall who were all occupied with their homework. Scorpius seemed to have abandoned the empty classroom he had sought and decided to finish his homework in the Tower now that it was past curfew.

Nimwe sat down on the ground at Cassandra's feet and rested her head against the couch next to the girl's legs.

"Hiya, Nimwe, how was the lesson?" Cassandra looked up from her long essay.

Nimwe hesitated for a moment: what could she tell her friends? "It was good. We are working on something new and I have to practice that Banshee Banishing Spell for Defence Against the Dark Arts." She turned her head to Albus who was sitting in the armchair. "I was wondering if you could help me with that, Al."

Albus shrugged. "Sure, just tell me when."

"Great. Tomorrow afternoon? I'm free."

He nodded. "We'll practice until four. I promised Hagrid to have some tea with him. If you like, you could come with?"

"Sounds good. Now, who can help me finish my Transfiguration essay? I'm still some short." She had just finished the sentence when Cassandra was already waving hers before Nimwe's nose. Nimwe took it and then began to prepare it to her essay. When she had finished it, she handed the parchment back to Cassandra. "You're an angel."

"I know," Cassandra smiled. "Do you think you could tell my mother that? She's still angry about that Charms test."

Nimwe laughed thinking of Cassandra's mother: a sweet, but stern woman who knew better than anyone that her youngest child was not an angel. The only subject she was not punished several times for not doing as asked, was in Transfiguration, because Blevins was not assertive enough to give detention.

The friends went to bed when it was late and Cassandra was almost sleeping on Niall's shoulder. Scorpius stayed in the Common Room some more to finish more homework and had nodded to Nimwe to indicate that he remembered his promise to her.

Time at Hogwarts tended to fly by: lessons and homework occupied most of the time of the students and the Quidditch matches were something to look forward oo, though the weather was bad at the Slytherin-Hufflepuff game. Luckily for the spectators, Slytherin slaughtered Hufflepuff as predicted and within 45 minutes everyone was in the castle again.

January changed into February, which flowed into March and Nimwe began counting the days to the Hogsmeade weekend where she would finally meet Maeve. The correspondence between Nimwe and her biological mother was steady and full of information. Nimwe could not wait to see the person behind the letters.

And so it was that that fated Saturday was suddenly approaching fast.


	16. Maeve

**Chapter 16: Maeve**

March, one of the most unpredictable months when it comes to the weather. Although spring starts in March, the weather can sometimes belong to summer or to the winter. It was the latter on Saturday morning, the day of the Hogsmeade weekend. The day Nimwe had anxiously waited for.

Heavy rain tapped on the dormitory window and woke Nimwe up, who had not slept well that night. She had been tossing and turning, just sleeping short periods of time before waking up again and continue to toss and turn again. So it was early in the morning when the heavy rain woke Nimwe and with a grunt she left her bed to go to the bathroom to make herself ready for the day.

Back in the dormitory dressed in her dressing gown, she looked into the wardrobe thinking of what she should wear today. Something warm obviously, but what? Not something too casual, she thought, though that was what she preferred to wear in her free time: dark jeans, a t-shirt and if necessary a vest of jumper, but nothing too complicated with bows, skirts and tights.

She pulled her favourite jeans out of the closet, her red well fitted jumper that did not have any paint on it and the black scarf Molly had knitted her last year. Simple, but not too simple. It showed she was well taken care off and if there was something she wanted to say today it was that she was doing well without Maeve.

She put on her clothes, fished warm socks out of a drawer and put on her black boots before she walked silently down the stairs to the Common Room. It was too early to go to the Great Hall and have some breakfast, so she had brought her sketchbook and her pencils to fill the time.

The Common Room was empty and Nimwe immediately walked to her favourite armchair near the fires that were kept going through the night, though they were low. She stared for a moment in the orange and yellow flames that reminded her so much of the hair of the Weasleys. Staring in the flames seemed to calm Nimwe and after a few minutes she scourified the soles of her boots and placed them on the chair so her sketchbook rested on her knees and she could draw without a desk. She held her pencil loosely in her hand and then began to sketch.

The drawing turned out to be chaotic with fire, eyes, trees, water; just everything Nimwe thought of to draw she drew. The drawing reflected what she was feeling on the inside: anxiety, some nausea and thrill to meet Maeve.

Nimwe did not hear the footsteps coming from the left side of the Common Room where the boys dormitories were situated. Sh only noticed she had company when someone sat down on the arm of her chair and grabbed the pencil she was drawing with.

"Hey!" She tried to get it back, but Scorpius held it well out of her reach. "May I have that back, please?"

"Nope, because it makes you worry more." He stood up and beckoned her. "Come on, we are going to have some breakfast."

"I'm not hungry." Nimwe flinched a little when she heard how whiny she sounded.

"Too bad, you're coming with. It's better than staying her alone brooding over today." When Nimwe wanted to protest, Scorpius chuckled. "Yes, you brood. Now come on, I'm hungry."

She huffed, but none the less she gathered her stuff and followed her friend to the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was empty except for a few teachers to oversee the breakfast and early birds like Nimwe and Scorpius.

"Wow, it's really empty," Nimwe whispered, not daring to speak out loud as it would be for everyone to hear.

"I know, isn't it nice?" Scorpius had a habit of rising early not matter what day it was. They would always find him at breakfast or in the Common Room making his homework, as he would already had had some toast and milk.

Scorpius and Nimwe sat down at the Gryffindor table and Scorpius pulled the plate with fresh toast and a jar with marmelade towards him. Nimwe just looked at what he was doing, not initiating her breakfast.

"Come on, Nimwe, you have to eat."

"I told you, not hungry."

Scorpius took another toast, put some strawberry marmelade on it and put it on Nimwe's plate. "Here, eat at least this. You can't go into Hogsmeade on an empty stomach." He poured some milk in her cup, then in his and took a bite of his own toast, clearly statin git was delicious to persuade Nimwe to eating hers.

Nimwe rolled her eyes at Scorpius' attempt and took a sip from her milk.

"Good, now some toast."

"I'm not a child."

"Then don't behave like one, be smart and eat. Just the toast, I'm not going to force more onto you."

Nimwe looked pained at the toast feeling the knot in her stomach tighten. Scorpius kept looking at her and she finally gave in, biting a tiny bit from her toast. She looked back at him wiith an expression that asked: 'happy?' and he just smiled back, devouring his toast and making another.

In the time Scorpius ate several pieces of toast (he almost seemed insatiable), Nimwe nibbled on her toast, hoping to fool her stomach that she was not actually eating, because she feared that she would throw up if she actually took big bites.

The Great Hall began to fill with excited third years and up and soon, when Nimwe had just a quarter toast left, Scorpius and she were joined by Albus, Cassandra and Niall, who were chatting away making Nimwe slightly forget the panic that was coming up. That was until the day was discussed.

"Okay, I just have to go to Honeydukes; my chocolate stack is running low and I need more to reach the holidays healthy," Cassandra declared dramatically.

"Absolutely a priority, a Cassandra without chocolate is not a pleasant Cassandra," Niall said teasingly. "I also want to go to the Weasley shop. Gyleth deserves some payback for his stunt last week." Everyone nodded: they had all been there when Gyleth from Slytherin had let Niall trip into the cauldron with Giggle potion. Not someone Niall was to forgive him without payback.

"We should be done with that on time so we arrive early in the Three Broomsticks. What time were you planning to meet Uncle Charlie?" Albus asked Nimwe.

That strange sensation flooded back into Nimwe and she dropped her last piece of toast on her plate, not feeling hungry anymore.

"Half past twelve. Maeve should be there at one."

"Half past twelve it is. We should cover some before that and the rest after Nimwe's date with Maeve."

"You don't have to wait for me. I don't know how long I will talk to Maeve. If it is long, I don't want to ruin your day out," Nimwe said hastily. The rest seemed not impressed.

"Like I said, Honeydukes and Weasley's before half past twelve, the rest after Maeve," Albus said. He looked at Nimwe. "We are not going to leave the Three Broomsticks before you have had your time with Maeve."

Nimwe looked suprised and slightly taken back at Albus. There was something her friends were not telling she felt, but she did not know what it was.

Cassandra lay her arm around her girl friend's shoulder. "Someone has to remind you that we have to be back at the castle by dinner. You seem to forget such things when you are doing something important to you." Nimwe smiled guiltily.

"In that case, we best go back to the Tower now, so we can be in Hogsmeade as soon as possible, okay?" Niall had already jumped up, no longer able t sit at the table and discuss what they were going to do. He was all about just doing it.

Everyone joined him and in the Tower they wen to their dormitories. In the bathroom Nimwe and Cassandra brushed their teeth and pulled a brush through their hair again. Nimwe touched nervously her earring that she had inherited from her father and then turned to Cassandra.

"You think this is good enough to meet Maeve in." She gestured to her clothes.

"Yeah, they're good. Don't worry. It's all about your personality, not how you look."

"But I don't want to look bad!"

"You don't, you look good. Come on, we should go." The girls grabbed their coats from their wardrobes and descended quickly the stairs to the Common Room, where the boys were already waiting.

The five walked to the massive oak entrance doors where Filch checked their names and soon they were on their way to Hogsmeade, one of the early groups of students making their way to the magical village. It was still raining, so conversation was not easy. Cassandra and Nimwe walked close to each other, both with their hoods over their heads to avoid rain leaking down their necks into their coats and jumpers.

After a long walk in which they had become so wet that Nimwe wondered if they were going to be able to dry today, they entered Honeydukes and immediately the girls forgot the weather and all but pounced upon the chocolate. The boys shrugged and went to the department with the more exotic sweets.

When they left Honeydukes (Cassandra with a big bag of chocolate), the village was crowded with Hogwarts students, all drenched by the rain. They walked quickly to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and managed to squeeze themselves into the shop. I talmost seemed as everyone was gathered in the joke shop. Soon the five were split up and Nimwe was standing alone in the school section. She took a Self-Answering Quill for fun and then slowly walked to the other side of the shop where she saw Albus and Scorpius discussing a new product. She admired the Wonder Witch line and advised Cassandra on the trick sweets.

All the while she kept glancing at her watch, her knot tightening with every second she saw pass by. Ten minutes before she had arranged to meet Charlie she stood in the line at the cassier to pay for her quill. George smiled at her while he gave her her change. He stroked her hair carefully and said "Good luck," before turning to the next customer. Nimwe nodded and quickly left the shop. Niall and Cassandra were already standing outside comparing what they had bought. Nimwe did not listen to their conversation, instead she was looking anxiously at the door of the joke shop, almost trying to pull Albus and Scorpius outside with her mind. After what felt for her as ages, but were actually two minutes, the two boys come outside with their purchases. Nimwe led the way to the Three Broomsticks, not talking to anyone.

The inn was cozy and warm and some of the worry that inhabited Nimwe seemed to slide off. She looked around and saw Charlie, easily recognisable by his red hair, sitting at a small table in the corner of the inn. He smiled and waved when he saw his goddaughter and her friends entering the inn.

Charlie stood up when the group reached the table and Nimwe immediatel walked into his arms for a warm hug to make her feel better. It did not last long, but it brought a calmness into her stomach.

When they let go, Charlie greeted her friends, that had already shed their coats and taken seats. "Hey all. Want some butterbeer?"

"Yes, please!" Charlie disappeared in the crowd to get the drinks. Nimwe fell in the booth with a good view on the door, her eyes transfixed on every customer that came into the inn.

She startled when Charlie put the tankards of foaming Butterbeer on the table and slit next to her in the booth.

"So, how is school going?" he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"Good. There is quite some homework, especially for Ancient Runes, we have to translate a whole page, but overall, good," Nimwe said.

"And for you lot? Harry and Ginny said hi to you, Al."

"Thanks. Tell them hi back. All's going well." Albus shrugged. "You know how everything goes. Lots of homework, strict teachers, etc."

"Some things never change," Charlie grinned and the group carried on the chit chat, while Nimwe kept a good look on the door and her watch. Five minutes to one Nimwe took a deep breath and said: "I think I'm going to that table there, before it's taken."

"Okay," Albus said. "We'll stay here, so if you need us, just wave, okay?"

Nimwe nodded nervously, wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans and she stood up, as did everyone else.

"Don't worry," Cassandra said, hugging her shortly. Nimwe just nodded and smiled shakingly. Niall, Albus and Scorpius just squeezed her shoulder as thirteen year old boys were expected to do and Charlie pulled her into a tight hug and whispered: "Just be yourself. I'm here for you." Nimwe nodded against his chest, tightened her grip on him slightly and then let go. She exhaled, straightened up and walked to the table, two tables in front of her friends and Charlie and waited for the moment she was eagerly waiting for and dreaded at the same time.

It seemed a long time before the door opened and revealed a woman clad in black. She looked around clearly looking for someone. When she locked eyes with Nimwe both had that flinch of recognition. Nimwe hastily stood up and the woman walked to her: for Nimwe it seemed to progress in slowmotion.

Of course Nimwe had fantasised about how her biological mother would look. They had not exchanged photo's to keep the rendezvous more mysterious, so Nimwe had looked at herself, eliminated all features she had inherited from Connor and so created an image of Maeve in her mind. She had been wrong.

Unconsiously Nimwe had modelled mind-Maeve after Violet, the woman who had taken care of her when her father had been at work and who presented mothers for Nimwe. Violet was a curvy woman with flaming dye-red hair always walking in clothes that let her move freely. Maeve was in a whole different category.

The woman walking to Nimwe was of average height, but the air around her made her look like a tall woman. She was clothed in a black slimfitted dress that enhanced the minimal curve she had, with a black travelling cloak around her shoulders dripping from the rain. Her hair was black and when it caught light it seemed to have a blue gleam on it. How dark her clothes and hair was, so light her skin and eyes were. It was an almost unearthly combination.

She did not have any difficulty reaching Nimwe's table as she the crowd parted for her as the Red Sea had for Moses.

"Nimwe."

It was not a question. A statement. Her voice was clear and full of confidence that Nimwe hoped to find someday.

Nimwe held out her hand. "Yes, you are Maeve?"

"Yes, I am." Maeve shook her hand. A firm grip with the precise amount of pressure for a good handshake. It did not last long and Nimwe fell down on her chair due to her shaking knees.

Maeve was so more graceful. With ease she removed her cloak, hung it over her chair and sat down with dignity. Her posture was upright and Nimwe sat more straight to match Maeve.

The two looked at each other, trying to get a picture of the other and in Nimwe's case, because she did not know what to say. As the silence continued, Nimwe ruffled her hair and touched her earrings several times in a nervous gesture. Maeve's eyes seemed to see it all and her brain seemed to store it up for later use.

Suddenly Nimwe became thirsty and she wished she had her glass with butterbeer. On the inside she could just smack herself. How rude! She invited Maeve and she had not even asked if she wanted to drink something.

"Would you like to drink something?" Nimwe asked. Her voice was soft and unsure.

"Yes, please. Butterbeer, please. It's too early for wine."

Nimwe just nodded and gestured to the bar that she had to get it. Maeve gave a short nod and Nimwe stood up to get some beverage and free herself from the situation for a moment, but Charlie appeared suddenly with two glasses of butterbeer.

"Here, I thought I got you something," he said as he put them on the table between Nimwe and Maeve. He turned to Maeve and said. "Nice seeing you here, Maeve. It's been long."

"Charlie." Again, not a question but a statement. "How can I forget that red hair? I hope you have been well."

"I have and looking at you, life has treated you well."

Nimwe saw Maeve's eyes contract for a moment, but that happened so fast that Nimwe thought she had imagined it.

"That depends, of course, on what aspect you look," Maeve answered with a polite smile in a composed voice, though not with the warmness Charlie possessed.

"Of course," Charlie said, not botheredd by the distance. "I will leave you two be. Have a pleasant afternoon." He nodded to Maeve and stroked Nimwe's head for a second before leaving again and joining Nimwe's friend, who immediately began to ask questions.

Nimwe did not notice it. She pulled one glass towards her and took a big sip. With the back of her hand she wiped the foam on her upperlip away, while she watched Maeve take a more ladylike sip of her drink, without any spilling or a white moustache.

"How are you?"

Nimwe startled by the common question. "Fine, and you?"

"Fine as well. Shall we just ask each other questions? Maybe everything will go smoother like that."

Nimwe nodded and took another sip.

"Would you like to start?" Maeve asked her.

Nimwe nodded again. She felt ike she was mute, but forced herself to ask something. She said the first thing she thought of.

"Why did you leave my dad and I?"

Nimwe's eyes widened, because she had planned to save that for later. Maeve looked at her with something in her eyes Nimwe could not explain.

"You're quite straightforward, you know. Connor was like that." A small smile played with her lips, when Maeve remembered those days fourteen years ago. It was gone within a second.

"Why did I leave your father?" Maeve thought about it, but not as if she did not know the answer. More to buy herself some time, it seemed. "Your father and I were seeing each other for about six months when I became pregnant with you. He was thirty-two, ready for a child, but me... I was just twenty-two."

This was new information for Nimwe. Her father had never told her that there was an age gap of ten years between him and Maeve.

"Twenty-two and full of plans. I was still busy with my education for curse breaking and I was planning to travel the world. It was how I ended up in Romania. I had visited Egypt and China before Romania and I was planning on working in other countries. A child simply did not fit in. Connor persuaded me into keeping you. He promised a beautiful life, that he would the greater part in raising you so I could finish my studies."

"As the due date approached I grew more anxious and Connor could not wait for you to pop out. I had a few panick attacks, one almost resulted in an early birth, but the Healers at the reservate could stop it in time."

"Connor decorated your room, bought clothes, a cot, everything. He picked your name. Nimwe after the Lady in the Lake in the Arthur stories, though with a twist in the spelling, he liked it better with the w. Darragh if you were a boy after a character in a book he loved."

Nimwe nodded, knowing which book she meant. It was in her cupboard at home and she had read it several times.

"Then on the last day of April my water broke. After several long hours you were born. When Connor saw you and held you I just saw in his eyes that from that moment on you were the centre of the universe for him and he would do anything to give you a warm home and a happy life." Maeve talked calmly and looked Nimwe right in the eyes, who listened with interest. Maeve took a deep breath and continued.

"I only felt panic. Not love or any other emotion a new mother should feel; only panic. I still could not see you in my life when I held you for the first time."

Nimwe bowed her head to hide the tears that were welling up in her eyes and Maeve did not stop talking.

"It was also the last time I held you. The Healers took you to the baby room to examine you fully and clothe you. Connor didn't know who he should stay with, so I sent him to you. The Healers run some quick tests to see if my health was well again and then left me. I didn't need more time to decide what to do next. I put on my clothes, scribbled a not to Connor, Apparated home, got the necessities and took the first Portkey to Japan. I've never seen Connor since."

Nimwe had always told people that it did not matter that she did not have a mother. She left and she never came back, so it did not matter to Nimwe. She had thought that whatever Maeve would tell her, she would listen, store it in her mind and move to the next topic of conversation.

How wrong she was.

Every word about how unwanted she was stung; stabbed her in the stomach. A few tears rolled down her cheeks. She tried to hold them back and wiped them away roughly with her sleeves. She sniffed and when she had her tears more under control, she looked at Maeve, who watched at her with some concern.

"Why did you not contact me earlier?"

"I did not feel the urge to do that," Maeve said simply. "I've been travelling the world. In every country and in every city I learned something new. I was content with how things were. I remembered you and Connor, but everything was better that way."

"Why seek me now?"

"Four years ago I visited Nepal. It's a good place to find yourself. There I discovered that was restricted by my wand. I've been using a wand since I was eleven, though my parents and the Ministry knew that was not what I needed to do magic. In Nepal I found out that the wand restricted my magic and myself. Since that visit I've been discovering and developing my own magic and learned so much more about magic, myself and the world. Along the way I read this article in the Daily Prophet about you and I knew I had to contact you. I was not ready then, but now, four years after Nepal I am. I now know who I am and I am never letting anyone put a restriction on me." Maeve's eyes hardend and Nimwe felt a chill run through her spine. It also made her wonder how it would have been for her to not be allowed to do her own magic.

"I was ready for you. I know I've missed the most important years in your life, but I hope you will accept me. I think we could help each other in defending our magic and do magnificient things with it."

Nimwe fumbled with the hem of her right sleeve, not knowing what to say to that.

Maeve leaned forward, trying to catch Nimwe's eye again. "Think of it, Nimwe." Her voice was softer, more appealing it seemed and Nimwe had to listen. "We together could do great things. We are unique and we should use that. It would be a waste not to. We could travel the world, learn everything there is to know. We could teach each other, complement each other and make sure we are not degraded again."

Nimwe looked into Maeve's light eyes and felt the conversation had taken an unexpected turn. This was not about Maeve's decisions anymore, this was about the future.

"What do you mean, by travelling the world? Do you mean us two, this summer?"

"No, no." Maeve shook her head. "No, I mean that you can come and live with me. We would travel the world all year long to develop ourselves to the fullest. I'm almost at the end of my discovery and I know what my next step is, but you, Nimwe, you are still young, unexperienced. You could learn so much more than at your school for wandusers." She spit the word out. "Come live with me and you'll never have to fear to be different again."

Nimwe frowned, not fully understanding the words Maeve was saying. "I can't travel the world with you, I go to school here."

"Nimwe, when you come with me, you don't have to go to school anymore. The journey around the world will be your school." Maeve leaned more forward and laid a hand on Nimwe's fidgeting ones. "You don't have to worry about being different anymore and you can learn to the fullest. Come live with me, Nimwe, and grow into the competent woman you can be."

Nimwe startled at the last sentence. She leaned at once backwards, taking her hands with her and looking at Maeve with big eyes. Suprise, longing and confusement ran thorugh her veins and for a moment she did not know what to say. She did not hear the noise around her, nor see the visitors of the Three Broomsticks. She only saw the woman full of opposites on the inside and the outside and repeated her words in her head. She ran her fingers through her hair a few times to think of what she should say.

"I-I-I can't," stuttered Nimwe, looking just past Maeve, not daring to look in her eyes. "I can't live with you and leave Charlie and Hogwarts behind. I can't." She put her hair behind her ears and felt the earring in her left ear that was once Connor's. Nimwe dared to look into Maeve's eyes now and was startled by what she saw in them. It was mostly anger and disappointment, though the rest of her facial expression was calm. It made her hesitate for a moment, though she knew she said the right thing.

"I want to stay in touch with you. Exchange stories and advice, but I can't live with you. My life is here and I won't abandon it."

Maeve's lips tightened and suddenly she stood up, kicking her chair back with much noise. "Fine, stay here. Stay here with those wandusers who don't appreciate your power. I've given you a chance to be great, but fine, stay here. Just don't expect me to stay around." Maeve took her cloak, put it on with one swift movement and then made her way out of the pub. Again people seemed to just step aside for her.

"Maeve, I didn't mean it like that. Maeve!" Nimwe stood up and stumbled behind her. Trying to catch up, which was harder, because the crowd did not part for her. She had a feeling that this was not going to end well.

Finally she burst out of the pub and she ran after Maeve, who had thankfully not Disapparated yet.

"Maeve! You have to understand me. This is where I go to school to and I have my home at the Burrow with Charlie and his family. I can't just leave that behind me."

Maeve turned around, her cloak billowing around her. "Yes, you can. I am your mother. Don't you want to come with me? Learn what I can teach you?"

Nimwe stood still just a few steps in front of Maeve. "Yes, you are my mother, but that did not stop you from leaving me. I want to stay in touch, hear about what you can tell me..." She paused.

"But you can't come with me," Maeve finished.

"No." Nimwe shook her head in sadness, though she was pleased that Maeve seemed to understand her.

"Fine." Her tone was harsh and loud. "Stay here. Don't expect a letter from me and don't write to me." With a _crack _she was gone.

Nimwe kept looking at the spot where Maeve had Disapparated from, hoping that she would come back and tell her that they would keep in touch. She hugged herself, trying to keep the cold out of her bones, though still cold chills ran through her veins.

Had it been wrong to decline the offer? It was her mother, everyone lives with their mother and she had meant well for her, right? Should she have thought this over, stalling the moment of decision?

Many thoughts flew through Nimwe's head while she waithed for Maeve to return. She was rocking back and forth, still hoping that the woman would Apparate back and tell her that they would always keep in touch.

"Nimwe?"

She felt a large hand on her shoulder. When she looked up, she looked into the warm eys of Charlie. She began crying, silently, but with big tears flowing down her cheeks. She hid her face in her hands from Charlie and her friends that were all standing around her.

"Oh, Nimwe," Charlie sighed and he pulled her against his chest, hugging her with his strong arms. He stroked her hair to try and soothe her. It helped: Nimwe began to calm down, though she still felt pain and guilt stabbing her in the stomach.

When Charlie felt that the sobbing had ceashed, he pushed Nimwe a bit backawrds to look at her. Her face was pale, except for the red stains which the tears had caused on her cheeks. Her eyes were big and puffy, making the blue in her irises stand out. This, together with the shivering and the sobbing, reminded Charlie of the eight-year-old vunerable girl he had taken in five years ago.

Nimwe wiped away the last tears and looked around at her friends, who had watched her silently with worry and shock in their eyes. Cassandra had Nimwe's coat in her hand and Nimwe took it grateful. She put the coat on, but could still not stop shivering.

"What happened?" Charlie asked, his hands again on her shoulders..

"She told me why she left. She didn't want to be my mother and now that she does, I pushed her away. She talked about self discovery and how she wanted to take me travelling so I could do the same, but I said no." Nimwe talked more to the ground than to the man in front her. "She wanted to teach me, but I still said no. She got angry. She walked out and Disapparated. She is never going to write to me again, because I said no."

The tears appeared again and Nimwe pressed her hands hard against her eyes to make it stop. She bend slightly forwards and smacked her head once to stop crying. She did not expect the slender arms that hugged her. Nimwe hold on to Cassandra, who was just silent and let her cry.

Albus curse under his breath and Niall and Scorpius mostly looked shocked. All three boys did not what to do. Albus caught Charlie's eye and saw that his uncle was having difficulty with progressing this information. It was clear that Charlie did not share Nimwe's point of view, but both knew that it was near impossible to make Nimwe see that.

Cassandra was still rubbing circles on Nimwe's back, when Nimwe said with a thick voice: "I'm going back to the castle. She's not coming back." The defeat she felt was clearly heard by everyone. I will see you all at dinner." Nimwe distangled herself from Cassandra, but Cassandra did not entirely let go.

"You are not going back alone. We are coming with you," she said, looking at the boys with threatening looks as though they should say otherwise, which they were clearly not planning on doing.

"I'm coming with you," Charlie said. "I promised Hagrid to stop by if I were in the area."

His goddaughter just nodded. She appreciated the gesture.

On the way to Hogwarts she was closely flanked by Charlie and Cassandra; the boys walked closely behind them. On the grounds Charlie insisted on excorting them into the castle, instead of parting from them on the grounds and Nimwe suspected him of planning to meet Professor Longbottom to talk about her. Just before the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower she said goodbye to Charlie, who hugged her lovingly and promised that he would fetch her from King's Cross for the Easter holiday. He walked away and Nimwe saw that he went the wrong way to go to Hagrid. Instead he was walking in the direction of Professor Longbottom's office.

Nimwe, Cassandra, Albus, Scorpius and Niall walked the stairs, gave the password to the Fat Lady and entered the Common Room, which was occupied by a few first, second and last year students. They had come back early, so the other students were still in Hogsmeade. The five took some seats near the fire where Nimwe recited her short conversation with Maeve. No-one knew how to react, so it was mostly silent after she had finished.

Nimwe was leaning against Cassandra's shoulder and felt that the crying was taking its toll on her: she felt emotionally drained. She closed her eyes just for a second slightly give in to the exhaustion.

Albus, who was in the arm chair on her other side, leaned forward and gently nudged Nimwe's knee. "Nimwe, maybe you should go to bed. Have a nap before we have dinner. I promise Cassandra will wake you up in time."

Nimwe turned her face into her friend's shoulder for a moment and then nodded. Going to the dormitories was easier said than done due to non-cooperating muscles, but eventually she shuffled up the stairs. When she had finally reached her bed she only bothered to take off her shoes and socks before collapsing on it. She shifted through replaying the conversation in her miind and dreaming about the afternoon.

When Cassandra came up to take her to the Great Hall she felt as tired as before she had gone to bed. Cassandra sat on her bed next to Nimwe's, while Nimwe put on her socks, shoes and a clean jumper.

While dressing Nimwe asked: "So, what have you decided to do with this situation?"

Cassandra chuckled. "You know us well."

Nimwe shrugged. "I would have done the same. So? What's the verdict?"

"We are going to see where this will go, though we want to stress that none of this is your fault. Maeve made an offer you could refuse, which you did and she made a rash decision based on that. None of us is happy with her at the moment."

Nimwe stood up ready to go and Cassandra followed. "It is my fault she left. I will owl her tomorrow with my apologies." They had reached the Common Room which was filled with students, most were chatting about what they had purchased in Hogsmeade. Near the fire Albus, Scorpius and Niall were talking to Jack, Sharada and Jade; the latter had bought the newest sweets in Honeydukes and was showing them off to her fellow Gryffindors.

"Finally!" Niall exclaimed when he saw the girls descending the stairs. "I'm hungry, let's get some dinner."

Nimwe chuckled, at least Niall accomplished acting normal. Albus looked at her through his round glasses to see how she was doing. She nodded and he smiled relieved. Jack, Sharada and Jade promised to join them later and the five left the Common Room to go to the Great Hall, just like they did every evening, which Nimwe was thankful for.

* * *

_Dear Maeve,_

_How are you? You left quite suddenly yesterday and I hope you are doing well._

_I want to apologise for last Saturday, I didn't formulate my answer well enough. I want to have you in my life, but I can't come with you. I'm settled at Hogwarts and the Burrow and I don't want to leave that behind. I would like to travel with you in the summer for a few weeks, if you'd like that, but I can't come and live with you. Not yet. _

_Please let us stay in touch._

_Love,_

_Nimwe_

She did not have to wait long for an answer. On Monday Gwyndion landed just before her plate and dropped off the letter. Nimwe presented her some toast and then ripped the envelope open. The letter was short.

_Nimwe,_

_This is my last letter to you and I would appreciate it if you would not write to me again. I made a proposition last Saturday and you turned it down. It was all or nothing and you chose nothing. _

_Our ways parted last Saturday._

_Maeve Emrys_

It was as if Maeve stood before her and slapped her in the face. Nimwe did not feel the need to cry. She gave Gwyndion a pat, stood up and left the Great Hall, all without a word. She went to the dormitories, packed her bag, did some homework for Transfiguration; all without thinking of the letter. The rest of the day was the same: she did what she had to do, answered the question that she had to answer and listened when she had to listen. All without a mention or a thought of the letter.

Her friends noticed, Nimwe saw that, but she did not tell them about the cause of her behaviour, though they did ask.

The next day she did not act any different and with every following day, Nimwe became more turned inward and her friends more worried. Professor Longbottom had tried to get some information out of her, when Albus had voiced his concern for her, but it had been as if he had been talking to a human shell. She looked at him, heard him, but there was no reaction to his questions.

Cassandra hovered around her, hoping that would start talking on a unexpected moment, but it did not happen. Cassandra, Albus, Scorpius and Niall suspected it had something to do with Maeve and the Hogsmeade weekend, but because Nimwe did not talk, they did not know for sure. It was for the four of them a relieve when it was time to board the train to go home for the Easter holiday. Albus had assured them that Charlie knew what to do. He had sent an owl ahead to inform his uncle of the situation, but when the train reached platform 9 and three-quarters Charlie was still shocked by the pale face and hollow eyes of his goddaughter. He tried to talk to her, but she only greeted him and as soon as they had arrived at the Burrow she locked herself up in her room.

Charlie sat down on his usual chair in the kitchen, lowering his head in his hands. Molly, who was preparing dinner, directed her wand at a knife to cut potatoes and then leaned against the kitchen counter facing her second son.

"What's wrong, dear? Where is Nimwe?"

He lifted his face from his hands. He had a tired expression in his eyes. "She is upstairs. I know she's been to herself since that talk with Maeve, but she is worse than I had thought." He ran his fingers through his red hair and sighed. "Do you remember when Nimwe came to live here? How her state of mind was after Connor died?" Molly nodded. "She's the same as then. Maybe not as bad, but still." He paused. "It worries me. What can I do?"

Molly turned around again, threw the potatoes in a pan with water and turned the stove on. She looked back at Charlie with a thoughtful expression. "Maybe we should do it like the last time."

Charlie nodded. "Leave her be and let her know we're here for her. Just like last time." He buried his face in his hands again.

In her bedroom Nimwe began to paint.

* * *

**So, what do you think? Please leave a review, any comment can help me! Also I'm looking for a beta. For me it is difficult to reread a chapter and look at it objectively, especially when it was written a short time ago. So if you are interested, please contact me!**


	17. Easter Surprise

_I'm sorry for the delay. I started university five weeks ago and I've been bussy with finding my way around, so that's why Painting Nimwe has not seen a new chapter for a while. I'm not going to abandon this story, I'm just taking it slower, because I don't want to rush it. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 17: Easter Surprise**

Dark purple coloured the backscene. A lone girl reading letters. A wind coming in and blowing all the letters away.

Light eyes with pearcing looks, surrounded by black shadow.

A long road in an empty village. The houses grey, no light behind the windows. A dark figure at the end of the road with her back to the village.

A pub full of people with in the centre a table occupied by two people. A teenage girl playing nervously with her fingers and clothes. A woman, who breathed confidence. Though in some features alike, the two women were opposites.

The brush added more yellow to the sad eyes of the newborn Little Owl on the canvas. It was sitting in an empty nest in a tree full of leaves lit by the full moon in the corner. The rest of the sky was pitchdark.

Nimwe cleaned her brush in the water; the ticking of her brush against the glass was the only sound in the room. The sun provided enough light to have a good view on her painting, though it was already setting. She took some brown from her palet table and perfected a few details on the owl's wings.

She stepped back taking the painting in, stepped forward to add some more paint to the head and stepped back again, putting the brush in the water. Her eyes did not leave the canvas when she reached for her ragged cloth to clean her hands as good as possible from the paint. She locked eyes with the Little Owl, which resembled Gwyndion in her younger days. Like the four other paintings leaning against the wall under the window, this painting was painted from the heart. Nimwe kept rubbing her hands with the cloth, keeping her eyes on the painting, not a thought in her head.

A knock on the door shook Nimwe out of her state of mind and she heard Charlie say: "Nimwe? Dinner is ready." He did not wait for her response: she heard his footsteps on the stairs.

She sighed. She did not want to go downstairs where Charlie, Molly and Arthur would look at her with concern every minute. She pulled the brush out of the water, dried it with her cloth, making a note in her head to clean it properly after dinner and left her room. She shuffled through the hall, down the stairs in her pyjamabottoms and a wide shirt that was actually Charlie's and was now covered in paint spots. Her hair was not combed and pulled back in a messy bun. Several locks had already escaped the elastic band, but she did not care to redo it. She walked into the kitchen, fell down on her chair and stared at the kitchen tabletop. The adults greeted her, but did not ask anything when she just mumbled 'Hello' and did not say anything else.

Molly set a plate with deliciously smelling pasta in front of her and stroked her hair shortly. Nimwe took her knife and fork in her hand, waited for everyone to have a plate and then began to eat. Dinner was quiet except for a few questions from Molly to Charlie and Arthur regarding their work in Romania and at the Ministry respectively.

They were eating their dessert when Molly said: "Remember tomorrow it's Sunday. Everyone is coming, including Teddy and Andromeda. Arthur, could you hide the eggs in the garden tonight? Tomorrow morning will be too short notice. I expect them early, so they can search the eggs before lunch."

The Easter Egg Hunt was an annual happening and though it was a week after Easter and though the oldest grandchild was almost nineteen and the youngest almost going to Hogwarts, it was a big event eagerly awaited by the children. It was a competition to see who had gathered the most eggs, but this year Nimwe could not push herself to care.

Nimwe excused herself from the table as soon as she had eaten her pudding. She put her plate in the sink and went upstairs, where she crawled into her bed, took the book that was on her nightstand and began to read. When she felt tired, she put on her pyjama's, brushed her teeth, turned off the light and lay back in bed. She fell asleep after a few hours, just like every day before that. She kept thinking and dreaming about Maeve, her letters and her departure.

Nimwe's holiday had flowed into a rhythm that consisted of waking up, eating breakfast, doing some homework, painting until dinner, eating dinner and reading until she wanted to sleep.

Charlie, Molly and Arthur only saw her during dinner and sometimes at breakfast if they were in the kitchen at the same time. Nimwe knew her family was worried, but the pain and guilt she felt kept her in her room and all those emotions poured out on the canvas. Just after finishing a painting she felt this numbness which she welcomed, but it never lasted long. Still it was something she pursued.

The next day she was wakened by Molly who had come into her room.

"Dear, you have to take a shower and dress yourself. We're expecting everyone soon," she said, while opening the curtains to let the sunshine in.

Nimwe nodded, turning her head into her pillow to block the sun. She heard Molly leave her room and after a few minutes she pushed herself up and rolled out of her bed. She grabbed some clothes and went to the bathroom where she took a shower.

With wet hair she went downstairs, grabbed some toast, buttered it and ate it fast. Molly was busy with giving the lunch the final touch and Charlie just came in through the backdoor.

"Mum, Dad and I are going to put the tables outside. The weather looks fine."

"That's fine, dear. I'm almost finished with this, after that I will help you with setting the table."

"Okay," and Charlie was gone again. Nimwe finished her toast, drained her glass with milk and went upstairs again, where she dried her hair and began reading in her book from yesterday. She did not want to wait downstairs to see the happy Weasley family arrive.

The hero of the book was very close to figuring out the clue to get to the next part of the quest when there was a short knock on her door. She heard it in the distance, but did not register it, so when Albus suddenly stood before her, she almost jumped up. She closed her book without looking at which page she was and looked questioningly.

"Gran asked me to get you."

Nimwe nodded, but did not move. Albus stayed in de room. "Okay, I'm _coming_," Nimwe said with some stress, hoping he would get the hint to leave her room. He clearly did not or decided to ignore the hint, because instead of leaving, he sat down on the bed next to Nimwe. She did not look at him, though she felt his eyes burning on her. They sat in silence for a while. Finally Nimwe felt that Albus had shifted his attention. She looked under her eyelashes to her friend and she saw that he was looking at the painting on the easel. Suddenly she felt exposed. She quickly left the bed and turned the easel around so Albus and the owl would not look at each other anymore.

"Did you make that today?" Albus asked in a soft voice, still sitting on the bed.

Nimwe did not turn around, but looked at the ground. She heard noises coming from outside. Mostly laughter and cheers. "No, yesterday," she said.

Albus sighed. Nimwe heard the bed creak and felt a moment later Albus hand on her shoulder. "Come, I think they have already started the hunt. James said he would find more eggs than me. I want to proof him wrong."

Nimwe sighed, just so softly that Albus did not hear and then turned around. The two left the room and walked downstairs to the kitchen where the backdoor stood wide open. In the kitchen Harry stood in front of the fridge, clearly looking for something. He groaned in frustration, stood tall again and closed the fridge door. He ruffled his hair, making it stand up even more, turned around and smiled when he saw Albus and Nimwe walking into the kitchen.

"Hey kids, you should hurry up. They've started already and I remember a challenge with James, Al." Harry smiled at his youngest son, who immediately run to the garden, while yelling: "I'm gonna win, James!"

Nimwe heard James laughing as a response. She did not make an attempt to join the others outside and was even considering going back to her room, but she felt Harry looking at her. Like with Albus she ignored him and in the hope he would go outside to the garden, she walked to the cupboard to grab a glass. She filled it with water and turned around to lean against the counter. Harry was leaning against the kitchen table, his arms folded and his gaze still on Nimwe, which she did not return.

"I'm not going to ask how you feel," Harry said. Nimwe still did not look at him, waiting for what more he was going to say. "Also I'm not going to tell you how you should feel or say that I know how you feel. Nobody here does, actually, if you think about it."

Nimwe bit on her lip, not further reacting to Harry's words.

"What I do want to say is that none of this is your fault. Maeve choose to break all contact with you, not the other way around. You made a choice and she made a choice. You have all rights to feel sad about it, but don't isolate yourself. It will make everything feel so much worse. Trust me, that I do know."

Nimwe nodded. The words seemed to stir something in her, though she tried to repress it. She looked up and saw Harry walking towards her. He pulled her into a loving hug and then left her to go to the garden. Nimwe took a deep breath, trying to get rid of the strange feeling in her chest and walked with the glass of water in her hand to the backdoor. There she stood stock-still taking in the picture in front of her. All around the garden were Arthur and Molly's grandchildren running around, searching for eggs, pushing each other out of the way to reach an egg first and then bringing them to their parents who were sitting at the table talking and looking with love at their children. It was as if Nimwe was stabbed with a knife. Her breathing became heavier and her eyes now followed Roxanne who run to her mother Angelina with a blue egge with white dogs she had found. Angelina smiled at her daughter, complimented her and lay the egg in front of her together with the red and purple egg Roxanne had already found. The girl was off again.

Lily now darted to Ginny, presented two eggs while giggling at the encouragements and she also quickly continued her search.

The feeling in Nimwe's chest became bigger, but she did not recognise it. It was completely new to her. Her breathing sped up and she began to shake.

Then Rose came into view. Though normally composed at school, today with the Easter Egg Hunt she let herself go and was now racing to Hermione and Ron to give the egg she had just found. She had snatched it just a second before Fred could have taken it.

"Mum! Another one!" She gave the yellow and orange egg to her mother, who laughed and ruffled her daughter's hair. Rose sprinted away in pursuit of more eggs and her parents leaned against each other smiling.

It was the final stab. Something exploded in Nimwe. She let out a yell of anger and threw her glass against the outside wall of the house. Suddenly everyone was looking at her. Nimwe did not care. She turned around and stormed back up to her room. Every step on the stairs was loud and it fuelled her anger like there was a drum playing with goading music. She walked straight to her paintings on the ground against the wall.

First she took the one depicting the pub scene. She looked at it briefly and did the thing that came from her inner core. She smashed it hard against the wall and kept doing that till the canvas tore and the wood was to pieces. Every smash against the fuel fuelled the drum inside her. She threw the pieces aside and took the next painting. It was the one with the village and the road and it was given the same treatment as the other painting.

"I HATE HER! I. HATE. HER!" Nimwe yelled. With every word she smashed the painting against the wall and she let the rage she had never felt before, but now seemed a piece of her that had been sleeping, take over.

Charlie appeared in the doorway of her bedroom, but she did not notice him. Now it was the turn of the painting with Maeve's eyes. "SHE LEFT ME! She's my _mother_ and she _left_ me!" Her voice was shrill and she was sure that everyone in and around the Burrow could hear her, but it did not stop her from screaming and destroying the paintings she had made in the last few days.

She flung the broken pieces to the wall where her door was situated. She saw Charlie standing stunned in her doorway with Harry right behind him. Harry had his hand on Charlie's shoulder keeping him on his place. Nimwe looked shortly at him, but turned around again and took the painting with the owl from the day before. The paint was dry now. It did not matter to Nimwe. The eyes of the owl widened slightly before the canvas hit the wall over and over again.

"It's unfair! She wrote to me and now. Now she just leaves me. Leaves me! She should have stayed away. She doesn't care about me. She never did. BITCH! Stupid. Freaking. Bitch." The painting was destroyed and the pieces followed the other victims to the opposing wall. "I HATE HER!"

There was one painting left. The letters in the painting flew further away and the painted girl was left with less and less letters, though the envelopes were still lying around her feet.

Nimwe helt it in both hands. She moved to the end of her bed and raised the painting above her head. She was still shaking and she took one deep breath before she flung it down.

"Don't, Nimwe." Charlie had woken up from his shock and released himself from Harry. His voice was calm and collected, though the hand that reached for Nimwe was shaking slightly.

"Why not?" challenged Nimwe him, her voice still loud. She had still the painting raised above her head and the drum was still beating in her chest and head.

"You made that painting."  
"So I can destroy it."

"Don't do that. It's an important painting."

"It's about Maeve," Nimwe spat.

"It's not." Charlie said, stepping one step closer. "It's about you. It represents you at this moment."

"A lonely girl, left behind with the envelopes, because all the letters are blown away. Just a sad, little, lonely girl." Nimwe said it with some disgust. "She's pitiful."

"No, just a girl with a bad experience. You're not alone." Charlie took the painting out of her hands and set it on the easel. "The girl in the painting seems alone, but that's just because you forgot to paint your family."

They looked at each other in silence. Nimwe's heartbeat slowed down to a soft and slow beating and she calmed down.

"What if you don't care about me anymore? Will you leave – I mean, will you kick me out?" She searched his face for any signs. Charlie leaned down, cradling Nimwe's face in his hands, roughened by his work with dragons. He looked her right in the eyes and all she saw was sincerity and love. "Nimwe, I love you like a daughter. I nor anyone of my family will ever kick you out of the Burrow. We saw you as family the day you came to live here. We care about you. Weasleys don't leave their family. We won't leave you." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "And don't you dare leave us." He smiled to her and Nimwe returned it a little shakingly. Charlie stroked some hair out of Nimwe's face. "You don't have to worry so much." Nimwe nodded. Charlie stood right up again and walked to the window to look outside. "I think they are almost finished with the egg searching. Fancy some food?"

Nimwe nodded; her stomach did feel empty. Still she was hesitant to follow Charlie to the kitchen. She took several deep breaths and then descended the stairs and walked to the kitchen. Molly and Ginny were there, taking the last plates with food to carry them outside. They looked up when first Charlie and then Nimwe arrived in the kitchen. Ginny just smiled at the two and walked through the backdoor to the garden where there was quite some noise because of the chattering of the big family. Molly on the other hand put down her plate and pulled Nimwe into a bone crushing hug. It knocked the breath out of her, though still it felt good; loving.

"It's such a shame you missed the hunt, dear. Maybe I have some eggs left over. You can have them."

"Thanks, Molly, but it is not necessary."

"Of course it is necessary. Come on, let's go outside." She took the plate in her hands again and led the other two to the garden. The tables were all set and almost staggered by the amount of food Molly had prepared for this Sunday. Nimwe looked around to see where an empty seat was. Albus was already waving to her and pointing to the seat between Rose and him. She sighed deeply while she walked to them, also adjusting her hair and clothes in a nervous way. She sat down and Rose rubbed her back shortly, which she accepted with a smile.

"We've collected some eggs for you," Albus said, shoving some brightly painted eggs in Nimwe's direction.

"Thank you. You hadn't needed to."

"Grandad hid plenty. I still won," James smirked from Albus' other side. It earned him an elbow from his little brother.

"You won by one. Hardly victorious."

"Still, I won." The two boys glared at each other until Ginny told them with a firm voice to stop. Arthur stood up and gave the signal to dig in.

No-one had to be told twice. The smell of the food had been taunting them, especially the grandchildren, so it was first come, first serve on the popular dishes. Nimwe was a little less agressive in taking some food, still she managed to get her favourite type of eggs and some bread that was meant to share in good Easter spirit.

They had been eating for a few minutes when Rose shifted her attention from her food to Nimwe. "Do you want to tell what all that noise was? We heard you yelling, obviously, but we heard more..." Rose left her sentence unfinished in the hope Nimwe would fill in the blanks.

Nimwe chewed her bread and decided it was best to say it straight without any denial. "I smashed some of my paintings."

The fork with some egg stopped mid-air in it's way to Albus' moutth. "Your paintings?" he asked dumbfounded.

"Not all. Just the ones I made this week, except for one. Charlie stopped me." Nimwe did not look at her friends; she focused on shoving her eggs around on her plate instead. "It all just came out. I never felt so angry before."

"I've never seen you angry," Albus said.

"No," Rose said. "Normally you are calm and just flexible. Not angry." She paused, looking at Nimwe properly and then decided to ask more. "Is it now all out?"

Nimwe considered the question. "I think it is. I feel better than I've been feeling this week. It still hurts me to think about _her_, but it does not consume me, I think. We'll have to wait until tomorrow to see if it helped, don't we?"

"I think it helped. You've eaten a lot more since you met her." Albus had hesitated slightly before saying her, but Nimwe's expression had told him not to speak of her name.

James leaned forward in front of Albus. "Wait, you smashed your paintings? That's awesome!"

Rose rolled her eyes and sighed heavily, Nimwe just looked a little stunned at him and Albus took the liberty to smack his brother's head, which was right in front of him.

"Ouch! What was that for?" James yelled, rubbing his head with a pained expression and he sat quickly back on his seat.

"Essentially, just for being you."

"Git," Rose said, adding some more to Albus' comment. "Are sometimes really as dumb as you act?"

"I'm not dumb!"

"He's not," Fred said. "Not always anyway. I would call him tactless or stupid."

"I think you're right," Rose said, while James was protesting against deaf ears. "Anyway, anyone up for a Quidditch game after the lunch? The weather is perfect."

It was as if more people had listened to the conversation then the five talking to each other. In no time the heads were turned to Rose and voicing their eagerness. Hugo went as far as jumping up to get his broom. He was held back by his father who grabbed just in time the back of his son's shirt.

"Sit down, snitch. You may play Quidditch _after_ the lunch."

Hugo reluctantly walked back to his seat where hes at down and ate his food as quickly as possible. When he had eaten the last crumb, he stared so intently at Lily as if he hoped that would make her eat her food faster. James and Fred were as restless as Hugo and Teddy was eating very composed to tease the three. It took a while, but as soon as the parents gave the signal, all the grandchildren plus Teddy and Nimwe ran to the broomshed to grab a broom. They sprinted to the apple tree yard and immediately James, eager to begin, made the two teams. The benefit of being with this many people was that every position was filled. Teddy and Victoire were Keepers, Fred and Dominique, and Molly and Lucy were Beaters, Rose, Lily and Nimwe, and Louis, Roxanne and Hugo were Chasers and lastly James and Albus were Seekers. It was evenly matched, though the hunt for the Snitch was easily won by James. They played for a few hours and were watched by their parents. After two catches James dared some of the adults to join them. Immediately George and Ron looked at each other with mischievous eyes and said together: "It's on!" Make your best team, we'll make ours. That's how suddenly Nimwe sat on the grass looking at the two teams that were formed, discussing the tactics. The best team, as James called his, consisted of Teddy as Keeper, Fred and Molly as Beaters, Louis, Albus and Victoire as Chasers and James as teamcaptain and Seeker. The adult team was made from Ron as Keeper, George and Charlie as Beaters, Ginny, Angelina and Bill were Chasers and Harry was the Seeker. Arthur had volunteered as the referee.

The whole family had come to the apple tree area and were cheering for their generation.

The game was thrilling. The Chasers fought hard to possess the Quaffle and score a point through the heavily guarded hoops. It was clear that this family loved Quidditch. Though not everyone was in a Quidditch team at the moment (just James and Molly in their respective house teams), all the grandchildren had learned to ride the broom from a young age on.

It was a fierce game and Nimwe fully enjoyed watching it together with the ones safely on the ground.

"Go, Al!" Rose screamed, jumping up and down. The normally calm and collected Rose Weasley; studious Rose Weasley always let loose when the family played Quidditch. Actually everyone was cheering enthusiastically and Nimwe was as fanatic as the rest.

"YES!" Rose and she screamed when Albus shot the Quaffle through the left hoop. Ron had been just a tick too slow to catch the red ball. The magicked score changed to 100-120 in favour of the adults. The victory was still possible for both teams.

Ginny raced forward with the Quaffle in her hand. Victoire was on her tail and tried to block her aunt. Teddy, with his for now Weasley red hair, had his eyes set on the Chaser, but reacted quickly when Ginny threw the Quaffle to Angelina who immediately shot it at the hoops. Teddy shot forward on his broom and barely managed to push the ball away, preventing the other team from scoring.

"Well done, Teddy!"

Louis caught the ball and sped forward to the other end of the field. Angelina tried to block him, but he was faster than her and he threw the bal to Albus, who caught it easily and immediately passed it to Victoire. They continued the fast passing until Albus took a leap and threw the ball through the right hoop. It earned him a lot of cheering form the ground.

"The Snitch!" Roxanne yelled, pointing at Harry and James who were racing to the other end of the field. There was a glitter of gold, Nimwe saw and she sprang up, her hands clutched together with Rose's in excitement. Father and son were equally strong: both naturals, one more experienced, the other lighter and more flexible.

"Come on, James! You can do it!" yelled Nimwe. Rose and she were lightly jumping up and down, screaming at the top of their lungs. They were not the only ones: everyone from the audience was encouraging the Seeker of preference and in the field the players had stopped playing and were cheering from their broomsticks. None of them attempted to score some points now everyone was distracted.

Four metres, three metres, two, one. They split up at exactly the same time. The Snitch was gone, but nor James nor Harry was claiming the victory. They looked mischievously at each other and returned to the ground. There was complete silence. The teams quickly returned to the ground, some even landed before the Seekers did.

Who had won?

"Oh, come on, spill it!" Fred yelled, marching to his cousin and uncle.

"WE WON!" James screamed holding his fist up in which the Snitch was struggling to be free. It took a second for the grandchildren, Teddy and Nimwe to start cheering. They run forward hugging and congratulating everyone on the team.

Harry grinned apologetically at his team. "It slipped through my fingers."

"Ah, mate," Ron said while clapping his friend on the shoulder. "You're just getting old."

"Says the man who let the last goal get past him," Ginny said and she kissed her husband on the lips. "Well done, love. Next we'll win. We don't want to let them get too cocky, do we?"

Harry lay his arm around his wife, hugging her close. "I'm glad James is going back to Hogwarts tomorrow. He will not let me forget this until the train departs."

"As he should," Hermione chipped in, kissing Ron on the cheek congratulating him on his good saves. "Molly promised us soup, are you coming?"

"Yes!" Ron said and without missing a beat he walked to the table, pulling Hermione with him.

"Not changed a bit, has he?" Ginny said smiling, walking back slower with Harry.

"Just gotten a little older." Harry grinned, tightening his grip slightly on his wife. "At least now there is enough soup for us. The children won't be finished celebrating for a while."

He was quite right: after the initial joy of just jumping up and down, hugging, cheering and everything; James and Fred went to their grandfather and asked for Butterbeer because it was needed to have "the proper celebration for a won Quidditch match".

They definitely had the proper celebration. In the end the parents had to almost pull their children along to get home and the Burrow became a quiet place again.

Charlie and Nimwe were standing outside just enjoying the silence and the environment in which the sun was setting. He had his arm slung around her shoulders. She was leaning into him.

"Are you okay again?" Charlie asked, slightly looking down at his goddaughter, who did not look back.

"Yeah, I think so. It just needed to get out, I think."

"I am glad it is. So, have you packed yet?"

"No, not everything. Molly has still some clothes from me."

"You should finish it. Tomorrow you are more likely to forget things."

"Okay," Nimwe said, but not moving. "Just give me another minute."

Charlie pulled her a little more into him. She could feel his love. "Sure."

They watched the sun set, in silence and their byes the next day was as loving as they were now standing in the garden. Nimwe realised she was lucky to have Charlie and she was not planning on saying goodbye to him soon.


End file.
